


CONSTANTINE: 

A TRAGEDY. 



IN FIVE ACTS. ' 

I 



V 

BY J. C. KITTREDG-E 



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CONSTANTINE: 



A TRAGEDl' 



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BY J. C. KITTEEDGE. «. 




TBOSTOZDsT : 
PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR. 

1881- 



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<;opyj{i<tIitei), 1881, by J. C. Kittred^e. 



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COIs'STANTINE 

A TRAGEDY. 

I3Sr IFI-VE -A.CTS. 



PERSONS REPRESENTED. 

CoNSTANTiNE, EmperoF of Rome. 

Crispus, his son. 

Dalmatius, an Officer in the Roman Armj-. 

Maximin, " " " " " " 

EusEBius, Archbishop of Caesarea. 

PoRPHYRius, a Poet. 

MiNERViNiA, Empress of Constantine. 

Theodosia, a Roman lady of rank, betrothed to Crispus. 

Helena, a Maid-of-Honor. 

Questor, Councillors, Heralds, Attendants, etc. 



CONSTANTINE: 



A TRAGEDY. 



ACT I. 

SCENE FIRST. 

An Apartment in the Palace at Rome. 

Enter Minervinia, Helena, and Attendants. 

Helena. How wearily the da3'S do pass, 
Your Majest}' ! There are no lotes at all, 
Of gallant meetings there are none as well, — 
No chivalrous society so gay ; 
And, if the Court does not ere long return, 
1 surely shall of weary ennui die. 

Minervinia. We miss our lords and lovers, it ife true. 
This time of widowhood is sure, but short. 
The troops will now, we think, quite soon return. 
But wh}' are we like parasitical plants. 
Which, when alone, so weak the}^ cannot live. 
But are compelled on stronger ones to lean? 
In countries wild, in that the}' us excel ; 
For women, there, their husbands do assist. 
And equal burden carry in their lives. 
Should it be said that Roman women are 
Far lower e'en than savages? Ah, no. 
Let us improve, by labor hard and long. 
To know of state affairs, of wars afar, — 
Of foreign countries know, and learn and think, 
And teach ourselves the courses of the stars ; 
Improve our minds in ev'r^^ way should we. 

B 



6 COlS^STANTINE. [AcT 1. 

The men alone shall not bright wreaths sustain, 
But from their heads their triumphs half we'll tear, 
And name of Roman matron then shall be 
Revered and famous e'en as that of Roman. 

Helena. Great Empress, 3'our picture is a gloomy- one to me. 
In jo3'ous pleasure onl}', I see life. 
Such drudger}' laborious would drive me mad. 
Besides, I not its object see. 
The men are but our servants. 
And alwaj'S keep our state in happy peace. 
They toil and labor but lor us alone. 
As while a life of pleasure we do lead. 
I fear my ro^^al lady fair will find 
But only votaries a few at Court. 
Unless m}" dut}' calls me to remain, 
I would from your great presence now withdraw. 

Minervinia. You are at libert}' to go. 

Helena. Thanks, your Highness. \^Exit. 

Minervinia. I fear that what she saj's is but too true. 
So low is woman's level sunk below. 
In her misguided state, 
To elevate, it is quite hard and slow. 
But, to promote the women at our Court, 
Shall we exert our utmost strength and will. 
Wliat my exertions feeble can perform, 
I shall extend a fairer morn to see. 

Enter Messenger. 

Messenger. Most humbly do I greet 3^our ro3'al self. 
1 am despatched from our great Emperor, 
This packet to deliver. 

Minervinia. A message from m}^ lord ! 
Give it me. 

{Reading.) "Beloved Avife and Empress, mother too, 
(Now these three titles all are 3'ours,) 
The scenes of carnage we have left for home. 
The messenger precedes us but a little league. 
Of our return, I send thee thus the news. 
That needed preparations can be made. 



Scene II.] constantine. 7 

Dear wife and mother, soon shall we now meet, j 

And with a loving kiss we thee do greet." ; 

Are they so near unto our city gates? ; 

This news is joyous trul}-. • 

I'll in, and hasty preparation make, I 

For my dear lord's and husband's sake. i 

SCENE SECOND. ] 

Exterior of the Palace. \ 

Enter Constantine, Dalmatius, Maximin, followed by soldiers, \ 

women, and other slaves, Arabian steeds, etc. Flourish > 

of trumpets, drums, etc. -. 

Constantine. At last, from labor hard, and danger too, ] 

Have we returned from war, \ 
Our heads with Vict'ry's laurelled chaplets wreathed. 

Where dark, tempest'ous doubt was seen, ] 

Assurance radiant now does beam. '■ 

Our throne, which, Hke frail towers built on sand, ■ 

Did totter from its weakl}- base, ; 
Does now, like Chian's wall, substantial stand. 
Our noisome foes are silenced all. 

As are the sacrificed children on j 

The banks of the Euphrates' shores. j 

We now will lay aside the engines grim i 

Of war most bloody, j 

And deck ourselves with stately robes of peace, — j 

Instead of planning sieges hard, I 

And marches ordering, j 

Use strategy also to quell our foes, i 

We will our force and labor now extend \ 
Fair justice to administer at home. 
In our domestic bosom we will live, 
And chalice drink of our domestic J03'. 
Our soldiers have right well their province held, 
Disheartened not in dubious times, 

Nor made with exultation drunk < 

When Fortune smiled. 1 

Our officers were then most brave and true, 1 

For which receive our fulsome thanks. \ 



8 CONSTANTINE. [ACT I. 

Dalmatius. Our Emp'ror great and gen'ral glorious, 
We humbl}' thank 3'ou for your kindl}^ praise. 
How jo^'ous 'tis to see tliis harmon}' 
In camp ! No mutinous seditions there, 
To mar the front so fair of martial life. 
Great station, fame besides, are naught of worth 
Within themselves ; wIk) deem them great are sure 
Minutel}' vain. 

To humbly take from Mother Nature fair 
Her proffered gift, and nobly it maintain. 
Is honor's summit. 
For each to take his proper station. 
As do the giitt'ring orbs above, 
Is truly beautiful. 

Constantine. Your words, most kind Dalmatius, are unto 
Our ears a most delicious pabulum. 
Now may we thus continue, as the bees. 
Who give their all unto the gen'ral store. 
As persevering spider clings unto 
His web, so we have to our duties held. 
No dawdlers half can such results attain. 
This blood of ours has flown through the 
Ancestral river many, man}^ years. 
From this time forth, most just Dalmatius, 
Thou art a proud patrician. 

Dalmatius. I thank vou for 3'our condescension, sire. 
{Aside) . What I nothing but that hollow nutshell of 
A favor ! For this insult I do hate 
Him but the more. If it had been the post 
(Which rings with gold) of Prefect great. 
His ruin none the harder now should I 
Pursue than had been past determined ; 
But now Satanic energies of mine 
Shall be redoubled. 
{Aloud). But see where comes our Empress. 

Enter jNIinervinia icith train. 

Emjfress (embracing Constantine) . Beloved lord and husband 
good, it cheers 
My heart to look upon thy face again. 



Scene II.] const antine. 9 ; 

The parting has seemed long. 

Most heavily do drag our hours 

When dear ones are aw a}^ ; but, when with us, ] 

The}' % like winged Light. 1 

How fares our son ? ] 

Constantine. Quite well and hardy, dearest love. | 

But that alone were shame : he has acquit 
Himself with honor. 

By his brave deeds, he showed himself unlike 
A bastard boy. ' 

Dalmatius (aside) . By his brave deeds ! But those brave ! 

deeds shall work ; 

His ruin, as those of \ 

Th' intrepid shepherd wild, who seeks for nests at clifty i 

Heights, in Northern isles. ■! 

Constantine. You will forgive our son, who hastens now 
His love so fondly to embrace. I 

You may think he neglects your love ; j 

But retrospective glance will show to 3'ou | 

That I, long years departed, was the same. I 

We bring to you the tropliies of our work. ] 

(Pointing to prizes of women .^ slaves., etc.) ■ 

The garments Persian, made of goats-hair fine, j 

Of fabrics rich and rare ; J 

And ointments superfine, in perfume rich, I 

Contained in alabaster boxes. 
Which are superbly made and pearly white ; 
The glowing women in seraglios found ; 

Arabian steeds, and Indian jugglers strange, • 

Whose necromanc}' followers will please ; 
Rare stones, within Caabah found, bnng we ; 
The copy of the altar great which sealed 
The bond between Great God and Adam old. 
The protot3'pe of which in Heaven is ; 

Of infidelic altars and vile rites, ' 

And censers with their superstitious flame. i 

(Turning to Dalmatius). The Cappadocian temple so profane, ■ 

Which at Comana is, will we suppress, j 

Idolatrously worshipping a flame. j 

The evil power destroyed must be, 1 

And truth be shown unto the people all. 



10 CONSTANTINE. [ACT I. 

That good iconoclasts ma}' the}' become, 

And error may be ended. 

For neither Jove nor fier}^ flame 

Shall pious genuflection cause again, 

But only holy incarnation true 

Of Mighty God, beloved Jesus Christ. 

Unto our people good he shall be known. 

As when on this our earth he was ; 

Not represented black, instead of white. 

As men full of design have made him look. 

We will disseminate the faith by sword 

Throughout the world, from East to West, 

Thus elevating man to standard true. 

I have adopted Christianit}^ 

Because of precepts pure and good. 

And as the emblem so divine, the cross. 

Appeared to me in sky afar, bearing 

This inspiring motto {pointing to banner) . 

" By this, conquer ; " which successful omen 

Has proved true. 

May diff"rent creeds, the which, if true, 

To same goal point, be joined in an 

Interpretation simple of the words 

Of our great Master ! 

When at great Necia's Council I did sit 

That end t' obtain, I tried right hard indeed, 

With some success, I ween. 

Submissive will with us should e'er prevail ; 

For, of ourselves, sure nothing we can do : 

O'erspreading star of destiny, it hangs 

About us all. We come to this our stage 

Without our own consent ; and exit, too. 

We must. 

And yet a level higher far there is 

Than great religion shows. That for a wound 

Is but a cataplasm ; while there is 

An health of soul which ne'er knew ill. 

Our growing light should teach a part of those 

Among us the value great 

Of true rehgion : not deem a mere 

Communicant, if e'er so faulty, 



J 

j 

Scene II.] constantine. 11 

A candidate most fit for heaven pure ; | 

Whereas a saint, if he be not unto ] 

Their superstition joined, is deemed by them ] 

As h>st. We'll in, and banquet to j 

Our victor3\ \^All exeunt except Dalmatius and Maximin. i 

Dalmatius {aside) . Go, detested tyrant, to thy lair ! 1 

Your present down}- bed shall be, ere long, I 
Changed to thorny nettles. 

(Aloud). How now, my comrade valiant? Why look ; 

You wan and sad, | 

And sighing like a cooing pigeon for ■ 

Its mate? Why are you not, like all of us, ] 

Now full of glee, as are the kittens gay \ 

Before a sunny cabin's door? .: 

For you have had your share of purple fame. | 

(Aside) . A splinter from a tumble got while in ; 
Retreat. 

(^Aloud). Right joyful 3'ou should be. But why do I ; 

So vaguely parley thus ? I know 1 

Your secret, dreaming turtle : you are ; 

In love. ; 

Maximin. How know you that? ^ I 

Dalmatius. Think you I have not eyes? Mad, lovers grow ; ' 

Besides, they have a lack of care ; profusely then , 

Do drop their golden words, as dew does fall i 

Upon the grass. Right on the earthy floor J 

Of arm}' tent, I found these lines, \ 

A sonnet, compared with which the lyrics | 

Of Pindar are but doggerel rhyme (takes paper and reads) : \ 

'' My love, to thee I sing most fair and sweet, [ 

Which joyous now upon thine ears will ring. j 

Remember you those days when we did greet, — ■ 

When we upon the floor did sit and sing, 

And as, through Summer's burning, weary heats, \ 

Were we there tasting sweets so nice and fine ? 

Do think of breast in which sad heart now beats ! 

To state of man I do myself consign. 

And now it is, 1 know, of course more fit, 1 

As I do sit, for other thoughts to sink. ■ 

Upon the Prince, alas ! thy smile doth sit, , j 



12 CONSTANTINE. [ACT I. 

Because he's richer far than I, you think. 
And now 1 must full sure ni}^ suit go o'er, 
Unless I give to thee of something more." 

(Aside) . An idiot, with brain most weak and slight, 

Far better rhymes could to her beauty write. 

(Aloud). And now, without this foolish banter, 

On solid ground sincere we now will stand. 

The passion great of love is 

Of so divine a birth, and so transforms 

The souls most high on whom it falls, that, when 

Comparing altered friend with what he was. 

Our mirthful feelings are aroused. 

That, from a fellow-soldier you will sure 

Forgive. But change 3-our tone of love ; 

Let not despondency, so chill, damp 

Thine hopes ; but daringly obtain 

The object of your choice. 

What! you, a poet heavenl3'-inspired. 

And gen'ral great, give wa}' ? 

Oh, no ! thy rival far inferior 

Is to 3'ou. 

'Tis true he power holds, and station too ; 

But they most trivial are, compared with that 

Fine genius which 3'ou possess. 

As objects glittering and bright, which shine, 

The}^ momentarily do glare, amaze 

As well beholder's eyes with wonder great, 

But circumspection closer prove to be 

But dross. His fame him might}' makes. 

But 3'our attractive presence soon could that 

O'erweigh. Be always, as her lap-dog true 

And faithful, by her side. You must succeed. 

Maximin. By Jove ! I'll take right quickly- this advice 
Of thine. Most true it is that I am great. 
I will unto her beaut}' rhyme, and deeds 
Most valorous relate. They will, the}' must, 
Affect her. Now I will go at once. \_Exit, 

Dalmatius. Go, thou idiotic dupe most dull, 
The instrument on which I play so oft ! . 
How eagerly he swallows frothy bowl 



Scene II.] constantine. 13 : 

Of flattery ! He is as rank a coward ; 

As ere took camelopard's legs at fight, ' 

And as for brain, if rolled into a globe- j 

Like mass, a pea's circumference would it outdo. j 

Kindness fair I do aftect, for men '• 

Unto ni}^ toils it does entrap most sure. : 

Professing charity, I win them all 

To me. Asserting, outwardh', contempt 

For wealth, this spongy Maximin 

I squeeze of his. | 

Whilst I pretend the chastity so great I 

Of pure Lucrece, 1 really am a sinner \ 

In that kind. And learning, too, which is des[)ised b}' me, ; 

I do assert 1 am enamored of. 

Religion oft is dallied high in alt. 

More surely to o'ercome unwary dames. ; 

I am a friend to man ; but, if I had \ 

The power, benefits which they'd receive 

Would then be seen. 

My present proud superiors now would j 

J level to the dust. ] 

Enough of such excrescences. Now to i 

My own estate. Accursed be Fate ! • 

What unproi)itious demon hovered o'er 

My cradle young, that I am forced to hold 

A post so low? ; 

In age, experience as well, I'm more : 

B}' far than is the Prince, yet b}^ stern Fate 

Compelled to fag most insubordinate. i 

The woman, too, that I would wed with joy, '■ 

Is taken from me now by pompous power. 

The fair Theodosia I do love right well. ; 

Her charms m}' passion would amply 1 

Satisfy. What Fate denies, I shall » 

By circumspection powerful obtain ; I 

For this my hate transcends all fear. i 

1 have observed (or my ] 

Suspicious fancy sees that which does not i 

Exist at all) a cast of jealousy come o'er j 

The Emp'ror's visage grim, like clouds upon ; 

The sun, when men did lavish praise upon i 

) 



14 CONSTANTINE. [ACT I. 

His boy. This flame is now minute, 

But fuel I will pour upon the fire, 

Until it will destro}^ him quite. 

His jealousy I will arouse, until 

He frantically perpetrates a deed 

Most direful and black. Now I will go 

And set this deed afoot. On this myself, 

So diabolical, 1 will alone 

Reh', and by great villany obtain 

What niggard Nature does deny. \^ExU. 

Enter Crispus and Theodosia. 

Crisjpus. Ah ! what delights are these ! Who would not 
stem 
The battle's boisterous tide, if, when on land, 
There were a shrine so sweet? 

Theodosia. Ah, yes, my dearest love. How have I pined 
For thee ! As when I thought 3'our life exposed 
To danger, such as you have seen. 
That thou, the life of m}' life, should be 
Where, as told of by v(\y nurse, would cause 
My tender blood to freeze with fright. 
For consolation, then, I'd seek the stars ; 
With their illumined splendors hold discourse ; 
The beaming moon, as t'were th}' loving heart. 
Would seem to breathe upon me comfort. 

Crisjms. And you have never distant been from thoughts 
Of mine. On dut}', lone, or with 
My revelling companions of the field. 
Or at the battle's zenith, bright and fair. 
Where Constantine, my noble sire, did shine 
With sun-like splendor, something still unto 
Me whispered, ''Theodosia." 
And at the closing hour of day, when bright 
Illumined sphere did sink from view, 
As falls a nobly laurelled king into 
His grave, I breathed a most beseeching prajer 
That it would be my messenger to thee. 
{Iussi7ig her) . E'en as the butterfly refreshes it 
Upon the luscious flower, so do I 
Upon thy lips. 



Scene II.] constantine. 15 

The lustre so etherial of these thine eyes, 

Which glitter as the sun upon the wave, 

And breathing clearness sweet at ev'r}' glance, 

Now wins rae most to thee. 

The grass is greener still bj^ thy fair tread ; 

Celestial flowers, too, are sweeter from 

Thy gaze ; the breeze more light from waving now 

Those goddess tresses fair. 

The play of lips so sweet much ecstasy 

Doth give. It thrills me to the heart, love. 

Thy plushy mantled cheek is rich as peach 

Most ripe. The color comes and goes as does 

The lightning in a cloud. 

Thou art my day, ni}' night, m}- all ; when I 

Do gaze on thee, my heart doth heave with deep 

Emotion, like the sea. 

Our souls are as ^"olian" harps ; 

And Love on seraphs' wings doth lift us to 

The skies. Unto bright angels we are changed. 

May fierce tornado black of jealousy 

Ne'er sweep o'er this our palace peaceful. 

Theodosf'a. The gods from that defend us. 

Crispus. Now, 1 assure my gem of life 
The misery of pent-up love is great ; 
The longing for affection cuts into 
The heart ; like as a rushing torrent fierce. 
Doth batter at the sluice-gates stoutl}' ; and, J 

Imploring to be freed, the inward part ] 

Does suffer when a passion feeling j 

Unable then requital sweet to find. j 

Seraphic mclod}^ of love had long i 

While slumbered in m}^ heart. i 

1 liad despaired of ever surging it ; 

All forth on earth, and yearned to call thee mine, J 

Before I went to field of carnage. ; 

TJieodosia. Dear Crispus, I repent m^' coquetry 
Of old. Your generous laudation of 

]My charms aroused the spark of vanity '. 

Within. But apath}^ most wise did bring me then j 

Quite humbly to your feet. ^ 

Crispus. That coldness I did feign, for our so mutual felicity '. 

Was unto me a cross. 



16 CONSTANTINE. [ACT I. 

Theodosia. Ah, yes, sweet portion of 1113' heart, it must 
Have been. However, dearest, 3^011 do know 
That adulation great does pall. 
This can be said, to palliate the case. 

Crispus. M}' love, it can. Impediments like this 
Show us that many pits are in the plain 
Of love. With life's hard battle over now. 
How sweet the joy the mountain shrine of peace 
To find ! 

Theodosia. Most true it is, what thou dost say. 
How charming is the night ! Dost mark the moon, 
So big, and lazy too, with her fair sheen 
Effulgent, rising from behind the trees 
So verdant? Clouds surround it all, as leaves 
A lily. 

Ciispus. Most cliarming, it is true. The worship of 
This goddess. Nature, natal is unto 
Our souls. 

Theodosia. Now tenderly in peace we'll live. 
Oh, love, when shall the hol}^ bond 
Of wedlock us pronounce as one ? 

Crispus. I hope it will be soon. 
But when it suits m}^ partner, it 
Shall be. For I am but your slave ; if 3'ou 
Command, 1 will, as soldier true. 
Of lower rank, obey his officer 
Superior. 

Theodosia. It shall be soon. 

Crispus. Now come, we will away, and all 
Our trivialities dismiss ; for what 
Are these to us, who live in heavenly bliss ! 



Scene I.] const antine. 17 

ACT II. 

SCENE FIRST. 

A Hall in the Palace. 

Enter Constantine, in robes of state^ followed by Dalmatius, 
EusEBius, ministers^ chamherlains^ eimuchs, etc. They all 
bow -with great reverence. The ministers approach., and hand 
pjapers to Constantine. 

First 3Iinister. This word, so please 3'our august Majesty, 
Doth come Irom Britain far. 

Second Minister. And this, great Master, comes from Dacia. 

Third Miiiister. From Egypt, great Augustus, this arrives. 

Constantine (takes papers) . (To Dalmatius) . My good and 
trusty officer, were my 
Commands obeyed ? 

Dalmatius. They were, my liege. 

Constantine. Has that same tax now been repealed, 
By which so many subjects poor 
Were beggared? 

Dalmatius. It has, m}' lord. 

Constantine. I slept not well when in my ears the cries, 
Beseeching, of oppressed multitudes 
Did ring. My heart, like snow beneath the sun. 
Did melt with pity. Then they, poor souls. 
Would piteously kill their offspring dear, 
Than they should pangs of want endure, that it 
Had been their lot so hard to feel. 
Oh ! monarchs not in pompous revel 
Should pass their days, but, as the pilots good 
And faithful, guide their ship of state 
From dangerous shoals. 
Dalmatius, see that in the arm}' 
A rigid discipline is kept. 
And not in peace effeminate decHnc. 
A country formed without trained soldiers 
Is Uke an armless giant, 



18 CONST ANTINE. [ACT II. 

Or Sampson shorn of hair, exposed to bad 

Revolts domestic, and incursions from 

Afar. All city justice see 

Maintained ; that justice be no longer bought 

And sold ; nor judges who are perfidious 

To mar their benches, passing, as the}' may, 

A careless sentence or unjust : 

Advisers selfish, too, the juries then 

O'erbear by sophistrv invidious. 

And thus make righteous, same as guilty, bleed. 

And there subvert the sacred name of Justice ; 

For, as the gods have ever pictured her. 

She shall continue blind. 

In East afar, our second capital [LooMng off. 

Does rear its lofty head. 

Byzantium's aged form have we 

Rejuvenated. Palaces have 

We built, tlie towers high erected, 

And Navigation's drooping head 

Have we now lifted up. 

On Euxine's inky sea she there does stand 

Imperious, like monarch poweifnl. 

His troubled land surveying. Our 

Twin thrones, united, are controllers of 

The world. All now are stools beneath our feet. 

The children of the world 

Are now the followers of great ^neas, 

And all of this our Empire vast, from Thames 

To the Euplirates' shores, is in a sure 

Subjection to our power. Dalmatius, you 

Do know that Nature fair hath richly blessed 

This place by its good situation. 

This Constantinople shall be 

Eternal monument of this 

Our greatness. The Golden Horn of the 

Bosphorous is the most grand receptacle 

For commerce in all the world. This harbor good 

The haven is for myriads of crafts. 

And riches of the world deposit there 

Themselves. All the art the world contains 

Shall now be ours. Good Eusebius, in our 



Scene I.] constantine. 19 J 



Great Eastern capital i 

We 3'ou select to do j 

Our sacred bidding. | 

Eusebius. I am 3'oiir trust}' subject ever. \ 

There 1 will serve you at ui}- best. ; 

Constantine. My friend, why art thou thus content? You are 
Obscure and full of povert}', compared with those ' 

About us. 

Eusebius. If I can get 3'our Highness' pardon, in rhymes : 

Most poor will I relate the tale of life. ; 

1 have so pondered it, that in my mind 
It hath assumed a rhythmic form. 

Constantine. Sa}^ on, your Holiness. 

Eusebius. " It so doth seem unto vain man, 
The wise, howe'er much wealth can scan, 

In man's dull life no joy I see. 'i 

With Nature grand love I to be. : 

My gracious sire, I will relate 1 

What chance brought me unto this state. 
In youth, to maiden lair I came. 
As roses twin, were we the same. 
Alas ! so hard was then my fate ! 
As leaf she fell to frosty state. 
Left thus alone m3'self I found, 

And bowed with sorrow to the grave. ; 

The cloistered cell and fair retreat. 

Most holy, sacred, did I seek. i 

I gloomy was, until, one da}', ; 

As angels' e3'es gave me their ray, ; 

Had sent a likeness, fair as life, ; 

To cheer m}^ way and quell my strife. I 

For most sweet boy did I then find, 1 

Exact her counterpart in mind. \ 

As seen a kernel in the ear, j 

A sister bud did it then peer. ! 

I begged him soon to be mine own. .» 

He has as Vacuus on me shone. 
I teach him wisdom clear to see. 

And burning lamp in church he'll be. ; 

When Spring doth all her beauty Lell, 
On mountains high, in cave, we dwell. ; 



20 CONSTANTINE. [ACT II. 

On couch, o'er which the bear-skins peep, 
We tomb ourselves in grave of sleep. 
All goodness is where we do rest. 
No frightful dreams our pillows test. 
From mountains far do we espy 
Brave eagles soar along the sky. 
A longing infinite does flow 
To pass be3'ond where they can go, 
A glowing hope inspires my breast 
When Matter's engine is at rest ; 
When life's light 's out, ni}' soul on high 
Will soar above where bird doth 1\y. 
Not treasures earthly, 30U do see. 
Are formed to make us happy be." 

Constantine {aside) . Thus God doth speak through gifted 
men. 
(Aloud) . Your picture is most fair indeed. 
Now go, thou good and trusty servant. 
Thou of our church the crowning point and head 
Shall be. \_Bell rings. 

Eusehius. Yon bell melodious 
To vesper summons me. Great master, I thus 
Do leave thine august presence. \_Exit. 

Constantine (aside) . Now , how much happier is this poor man 
Than I, in my estate so high ! 
Of no man is he jealous. Earthl}' things 
Do not engross his thoughts. He dwells in heaven, 
While 3'et on earth. Oh that I had a part 
Of his serenit}' of mind ! Now I 
Would barter all my Empire for his peace 
Of soul. Unthinking multitudes would cnll 
Me Esau, fool ; it then would be right well. 
For he is full of love 
And human kindness, whilst I make war 
Upon m}' offspring dear. 

(Aloud). Now go and see that ni}- injunctions are 
Enforced. 

Dalmatius. I go, my lord. 

Constayitine (alone) . Now Justice will her balmy breath extend 
Around our land, and Peace and Plent}' smile. 
Is it by Fate decreed that this our cup 



Scene I.] constantine. ^1 . ■ 

\ 
Should not be clear ? That with our nectar ; 

Some taints of wormwood must be mixed ? i 

Within the mansion of my heart, there is 

A room where vile things rest ; : 

Where ranc'rous jealousy infects the air which lies i 

Adjacent, and renders close [ 

Proximity loathsome and vile. 

It will, I fear, transmit itself ] 

To other quarters, and crumble down 
The dwelling fair into a dust}^ ruin. 
When 3'oung, bright Hope did cheer my path, 

Then, conscious of a kingl}^ mind, I strove ' 

My God-born function to maintain, and have. 
By perseverance, reached the end for which 
I aimed ; exposed myself to battle's shocks, 
There, where at best uncertainty remained. 
Not for ambition merely have I worked, 
But for my people's happiness and peace. 
The wheel of fortune ever hath in my 
Own favor turned. And, when I saw the haven 
Appear by life's so stormy ocean, 
An om'nous shadow did appear. 
To dash me back again. My son, my boy, — 
Yes, he whose growing progress swift I watched. 

And loved so tenderly ; ; 

Whose deeds of valor I 

Did me assure I lived again in him. , 

That noble heir of mine would then ■ 

Maintain ni}' power when I had fled. \ 

But then, on that fair day so bright, | 

There did succeed the blackest night. ■ 

My jealous clouds destroyed the sheen of day, 

That now, before my death, • 

Ambition great will tempt him to the seat \ 

Before his time. It must not be. i 

ril strive to wipe these things from off my mind. \ 

But yet, without black thoughts, I'll watch ■ 

My son ; ! 

For watching well, oft will avoid ] 

What somnolent security endures. \Exit. 

c 1 

i 

i 



22 CONST ANTINE. [ACT II. 



Enter Maximin. 

Maximin. I went unto her house, as he, m}' friend 

Dalmatius, did advise, but coldly was 

Received. This man's my friend ; he sees m\' genius, 

And farther will advise. Ah ! here 

He comes. 

Eyiter Dalmatius. 

Dalmatius. What ! here alone? How fares 3^our suit? 

Maximin. Not well. She deigned me not 
An interview. 

Dalmatius. You did not sta}^ half long enough. 
Your noble importunity must now 
Erase the strong impression which is made 
B}^ other suitor. 
By perseverance bold. 

Maximin. Wh}^, so I did. My brain was filled unto 
Its brim with lines most amorous. 
But, when I did commence to read, she laughed 
At them, and bade me quickl}" close. 

Dalmatius. Go to 't again : the victories cannot 
Be gained at once. Did Virgil please at first? 
Were Orpheus' lute or great Apollo's lyre 
Esteemed aright when first their heavenlj'- 
Inspired, melodious strains came forth? Ah, no : 
Do not believe it. The great, at first, 
Are unappreciated. Pursue 
Your former strains. Set them to music. 
And chant them forth, accompanied by lute, 
Beneath her window, at midnight hour, 
When the prosaic world is hushed in sleep. 
The moon, with most ecstatic joy, 
Will oscillate from out her proper zone : 
And, if you do not then retard your splend'rous tones. 
It will with sister spheres collide, and all 
Things render chaos. 

Maximin (aside) . 1 am a poet truly, 
Or he would not so strong!}' urge that theme. 
(Aloud) . Now I will take your good advice ; for I 
Will go this very night. 



Scene I.] constantine. 23 | 

Dalmatius. So do ! And I will wager that she will come j 

To you enraptured, as a roe doth come | 

Unto its mate. But do not now permit j 

Your life's fair drama to consist of scenes 

Which are entirely' amorous. Fail not j 

Your presence at the banquet to be held l 

In honor of his princel}' Highness. ' 

Maximin. What say you ! Banquet of my rival ? j 

Dalmatius. I do perceive that your great parts have lost, j 

By concentration on this theme, J 

Their versatility. You should ! 

Recover now 3'our caution, as J 

Of old. If you absent yourself at will ] 

From an occasion great, important too, | 

As this will be, would sure attend on you \ 

A great suspicion. I shall hold a seat \ 

At that grand nuptial feast ; not out of love I 

And duty just to Crispus, • 

But for a cause like yours. • 1 

Maximin. Do you oppose him, then? i 

Dalmatius. I do. Cannot you now see why? We aren't J 

The torpid things which are ] 

Not galled by arrogance of those we deem our equals, ! 

And suffer calmly 1 

From saucy Fortune's humorous caprice. \ 

I hate him for his place, and, still more yet, ; 

That Constantine, his partial father, 

Who b}' conceit is almost now devoured, : 

Created by his accidental, shght 
Successes. His mental power is not 
Of greater form than ours, and I would drag 
Them down to hell. So we are really 

Now aiming at one mark. Two heads than one ; 

Much better are. We, then, most friendly will 
Unite, and our great end 

Accomplish quite. Now come, the hour for ! 

The fi§te has now arrived. We will now go on 

Together, and, as we walk, ■ 1 

We '11 make our plans the surer. >, 

The feast is most important. You will I 

Most deeply sure regret if you 
Untimely do forget. \_Exeunt. : 



24 CONSTANTINE. [ACT II. 

SCENE SECOND. 

A Street in Rome. 

Enter Dalmatius and Maximin. 

Dalmatius {pointing off). Behold the palace of the Prince. 
Now he, a foohsh man, unknowing of 
His fate, does deem himself secure. 
But we are 83'bils, who do read quite clear 
The coming page of his life's book. 

Maximin. We are so, it is true. Full sure within 
Artistic circle, I cannot fail 
At apex point to be. Among 
Musicians, although the choicest souls 
In Rome will be collected there, I will 
Not be a second small to an}' one. 

Dalmatius. No more you will, sweet Amphion. For 3'ou 
Will move the stones of Rome, as did 3'our great 
Progenitor, of Thebes. 

Maximin. At this same feast, I '11 be the swan-like neck ; 
The rest will be but bod}' common, tail 
As well. The Prince himself is body too, 
Base body small ; a soldier is naught else. 

Dalmatius. Then you do make oblation low unto 
Apollo rather than to Mars. 

{Aside) . What concentration of conceit ! If the 
Great purposes of Nature had been 
Completed, he would have been a slave ; 
Yet he does hold in his contempt the trade 
Which is the noblest in the cycle of 
The world. 

Maximin. Of music I am so much enamored 
That I am wedded to my lute. 
I fear that I am dissolute, by thus 
Pursuing two fair mistresses. 

Dalmatius. Now have a care, or you '11 be held 
For bigamy. 

Maximin. Come, we will enter now the palace hall. 
Where we shall see those slayers base of men, 



Scene III.] constantine. 25 

The clods of earth. I am 

A sweet etherial poet. 

{Pointing to head) . I have within this sphere what they, the best 

Of them, have not. 

Dalmatius (aside). Aye, veril}^ : a vast amount of great 
Stupidity, which heaven defend them from. 
(Aloud). Ah, here we are at last. ^Exeunt. 

SCENE THIRD. 
An Apartment in the Palace of Crispus. 

A festal table in the centre^ around which are seated Ceispus 
(m centre) , Dalmatius, Maximin, soldiers, noblemen, retainers, 
etc., etc. i 

Dalmatius (rises) . My fellow-soldiers, we here congratulate | 

our Prince | 

(The youthful Caesar) on his expected joy. ^ 

He is our brave and second head ; j 

Our dear, beloved companion, who, at -j 

Yon Adrianople, did assist his j 

Great father, who slew some thousands of ! 

The enemy. His noble son performed '. 

No less a feat there with Licinius ; 
And when the civil war with its 

Fraternal horror raged, and when our brave [ 

And noble leaders each did take a part ' 

Most dangerous, unparagoned there was : 

The valor seen, when j^ounger chief of ours ; 

Did force the Helles' wave, defended b}^ ' \ 

Our enemy Licinius. How like ; 

Fierce tigers they did spring upon their foes. 

And carry all before ! Our troops ] 

Their heroism did cheer, who strove themselves '; 

To make more worthy of such masters. 1 

The welkin then did ring with shouts of praise, ; 

When victory was there proclaimed. And now, j 

When he 's returned, how fitting 'tis for our j 

Loved lord to lead a daughter fair of this . 

Our land unto an altar twined ' j 

With festoons of a conqueror ! 1 



26 



CONSTANTINE. [ACT II. 



Let us carouse unto our Prince's health, 

Prosperit}^ besides. 

(Aside) . Such toasts as this shall work his ruin. 

Crisjms. My friends, from you comes honor in 
Repletion for my duty in the warlike field. 
How noble were those scenes ! — 
The foe's announcement ; our bustling preparations ; 
The cr^' to horse ; the statelj' chargers, 
Elegantl}' caparisoned, their fiery e3'es peering out, 
Pawing, snorting, impatient for their work ; 
The trump to charge, and gallop's exhilaration ; 
Our crested helms upon our heads. 
And bulwark bucklers on our arms ; 
And trust}' falchions in our hands, — 
Like madmen rushed we on the foe ! 
Saw them beneath our valor quake, — 
On their retreat, to follow them 
Like wildfire o'er the heath. 
Along fair roads, and by great palaces, 
And landscaped parks. 
Through cornfields rich and meadows green, 
Great rivers ford, glittering 
In noonday sun. 

And, after enemies' great rout, returned. 
The silv'ry armor shining brightl}' in 
The sun. 

Dalmatius. E'en so, and our great conquests foreign. 
The king lay cringing at our feet 
At last, his harems gone, and his 
Fair, hooded beauties (peeping through 
Their veils, as does the moon through clouds 
On hazy nights, and calHng us their lords), and our 
Great Caesar's prowess 'gainst the Allemand hordes. 

Crisjms. Now come, we'll make an oflfering 
To festive Bacchus, and not to brute 
Silenus drink. Ah, 3'es, my friends. 
There glory was indeed ! Now it is meet 
That e'en at this grand time 

The mem'ry holds our noble father ; he did found 
Our triumphs all. 



SCEI^E III.] CONST ANTINE. 27 . 

I ne'er saw man approach ideal great 1 

Of gen'ral as my father does. j 

Upon a long and tedions march, when men \ 

Would from exhaustion fall, although he was < 
Then suffering, with his stout heart would bid 

Them dawning hope to take. No beaut'ous queen i 

Could Ciesar-like draw him from his ■ 

Great trust ; unsuccessful fight could not, j 

Or future prospect gloom}', shake his own | 

Firm hope. • 

Dahnatius. 'Tis true, most worthy Prince. Here 's to our land's ' 

Great Emperor and master. {Aside) . This from him ' 

A secret shall be kept. i 

Ci'ispus. Sweet Virtue should forever reign, and not ' 
Permit base idleness and vice to run 
Their poisonous spear-heads through our social flesh, 

Resembling the so-called Aristos great • 

Of other times and nations. But without ! 

Vile superstition we'll buckle to the path of life ! 
Most nobl}'. ' ' 

Dalmatius. Most true it is, m}^ lord. i 

{Aside to Maximin) . How virtuous he is ! We nod assent, ; 

But not to it subscribe. .Ah, nO ! ; 

Fair women, wine also for us, mj' boon • 

Companion gay. Is it not so? J 

Rich pleasure doth on our escutcheons sit ; j 

The conquests are for our amusement. | 

Crispus. The cruel and ungrateful ] 

Licinius requited was at that J 
Great time b}^ running swift along the chain 
Of failures. 

Maximin {to Dalmatius) . This banquet is a great one. i 

Crispus. Come, friends, now let good-humor gloss the festal | 
scene. 

Maximin {to Crispus). Here, by your Highness' leave, : 

I'll make a philosophical remark. ; 

Crispus. You have it, Maximin. 

Maximin. We are something now, but once were oysters. \ 

Crispus. Believe you so ? {Aside.) And, judging here from your j 

Capacity of mind (which is of a j 

Decidedly moluscal character) , j 

You have but made small progress since. ] 



28 CONSTANTINE. [ACT II. 

Maximin. I once was but a monke}^ 

Dahnatius (aside). And still do answer to that name. 

Maximm. We are progressing even now. 

Crisjjus (aside) . There is much room for it. 

Maximin. We came from something ver}^ small, so slight, 
Infinitesimal it was, that it 
Was hardl}' anything. 

Crispus (aside) . You did most certainly, for nothing comes 
From nothing, 

Maximin. We are but cla}^ 

Crispus (aside) . And 3'ours is of the poorest quality. 

Maximin. We perish like the beasts within the field. 

Crispus (aside). You live like one. This fellow shall be 
known 
Unto my royal sire, for his diversion. 
(Alozid). Now, Maximin, I fear 
That 3'ou the wine have tippled but too oft. 
The lobster-color of your cheeks is like 
The ruby. 

Dalmatins. 'Tis true, 3'our Highness ; that 's because he is 
A poet. For his inspiration it 
Is needed. 

Crispus. Does he, besides, ride Pegasus? 
It is much needed trul}^ as 
Ethereal high spirits, as our friend, 
Do scale the great Empyrean. 

Maximin [seriously) . M}^ royal master flatters me. 

Crispus. Such genius does much adorn 
The pyramid of this our nation. 

Maximin. You greatly condescend, 3^our Highness. 

Crispus. He is of course a lover ; 
A poet always is. Who is 
The favored dame? Is she colossal, or but 
Diminutive? Which? Corpulent, 
Or of a slender form? In rich, 
Young adolescence fresh, or matronly 
In age? Her face, — is it an ugl}- one. 
Or beautiful? For poets' tastes sure are 
Most various. 

Maximin (aside) . He little does suspect to whom I am 
Devoted. 



I 



Scene III.] constantine. 29 

Dalmatins {askleto Maximin) . He would not be so bantering 
If he did know that you were his 
Great rival, 
Whose genius does weigh against his power. 

Maximin. I think so, too. 

Crispus. We '11 toast her now, whoe'er she be. 

(They drink.) 

Dalmatius. With all my heart ! 

Maximin. With all m}- heart ! 

Dalmatius (to Maximin) . If he knew all, he would not be so 

gay- 

Crispus (to Maximin). Did inspiration cause yourself to be 
Intoxicated, when I saw you wild 
The other night? 

Maximin. May it please your Royal Highness, 
The states identical are, alwaj's, with 
A poet Madness is his beauty. 

( 'rispus. Indeed ! Your beauty, then, with Homer's mind 
Competes ; Apollo's form besides. 

Come, friends, this is to the combined great Homer and 
Apollo too. A Janus truly there : 
Fair Beauty one way looks, and Mind does glance 
The other. 

It emulates great Argus keen, himself. 
To our divine Prometheus, who stole 
The sacred fire from heaven, for our behoof. (They drink.) 

Dalmatius (to Maximin) . Does not this banter drive you to 
revenge ? 

Maximin. It is not banter. You suspect always 
Intents most evil ; something find, also, 
Nefarious in ev'r}' action. I, 
Upon the other hand, am far more free 
And open. 

Dalmatius (aside). "More free and open," yes, as is a 
gaping pig, 
Who swallows all the flies of ribaldry. 
(Aloud) . Our rhymer deems the trade of arms beneath 
His elevation, your Royal Highness. 

Maximin (to Dahnaiius). Oh, hush I Do not say that. Their 
ire you '11 rouse 
Against me. 



30 CONST ANTINE. [ACT II. 

Dalmatius. And if I do, my hero bold? 
What is that to you ? 

Crispus. Ah I he despises it, does he ? 
(Aside) . The coxcomb ! with all that's useful, I 
Suspect. {Aloud) . Of course we can 't appreciate 
His fei'hngs. 

Maximin. Your greatness truh' does appreciate 
A poet. {They laugh.) Your Royal Highness is 
One in realit}' ; the quality 
Poetical is seen so soon by 3'ou 
In other men. 

Besides, your Highness is an Adonis, and of course 
Can beaut}' understand. 

Crispus. Of course. Belief tells me there is, unto 
The poet, food to nurture his great muse 
On ev'rj' hand. Nay, even in the dull 
And stony pavements of a street ! 
Is this not true ? 

Maximin. It is, so please 3'our worshipful and most 
Great Highness. Our royal Prince is e'en 
Most gracious thus to cast his favor on 
Us all, my comrades. 

Crispus {aside). Ah, what a sycophant! 

Maximin. He 's not exalted b}' his station high. 
How much the culture of his Majest}' 
Has done unto himself and us as well ! 
His gracious Majesty, the great and strong 
Augustus, noble sire of ours, your father 

Crispus {aside). How man}' more so venal links will he 
Now add to that long chain of flattery ? 

Maximin. Most worthy is to be the father of 
A son like this. 

Crisjms {mockingly) . Disinterested subject, man}' thanks. 

Maximin Your young, affianced wife besides, the fair, 
Sweet Theodosia, is 
A noble Roman Princess. 

Crispus. Such comment from a judge of 
The fair sex is highly gratifying. 

Dalmatius. So please j'our Royal Highness, our friend 
Is multifarious in his 
Accomplishments. 



Scene III.] const antine. 31 

To Orpheus he makes oblation 
As well as to Apollo. 

Crispus. You sacred muses ! The gods do highly favor us. 
Wilt thou rejoice our ears, 
By causing them to now remove from their 
Strong fastnesses, by 3'our so dulcet tones? 



Maximin. You do me too much honor. Prince. \ 



Crispus. What sa}^ you? 

Maximin. I would, my lord. Mischance, alas ! did keep 
My instrument at home. 

Crisims. Defects like that can soon be remedied. 
What ho there, Seneschal ! 

Enter Seneschal. 

Seneschal. What is 3'our Highness' will? 

Crispus. Go summon court musicians, with their lutes, 
Before us. 

Maximin {disco7icerted). My lord ! my lord ! 

Crispus. What say'st thou, great one? 

Maximin. So please your Highness, custom hath wrought 
Its power so on me, I dare attempt 
A tune upon no other instrument 
Except my own. 

Dalmatius {aside) . A cowardly excuse. 

Crispus (to guests). Shall we now list unto this melody 
Most glorious ? 

All. Aj'e, aye, my lord, we will ! 

Crispus. Then to your house I'll send in search of the 
So favored organ, of such 
Celestial make. 

Maximin. Naj^, nay, my noble lord ! 

All. Oh, certainly ! The tune, the tune ! 

Maximin. Then, if it is as you do say, I must consent. 

Crispus {to Seneschal). With haste despatch thee to our 
Maximin's house. 
And bring unto this place his favored lute. 

Maximin. 'Tis favored 3'ou may say, right well, 
Your Royal Highness. Its strings are of 
The finest texture. It is of gold. 
Inlaid with mother rich of pearl. 



32 CONSTANTINE. [ACT II. 

The ke^'s are diamonds. The tone is sure 
Most exquisite. Of a far Persian man, 
A troubadour, I bought the instrument. 
In Stechiphon, for ten bright thousand coins, 
The drachmas called. 

Crisj)us. How wondrous ! 

Maximin. Your Highness now may well sa}' wondrous. 
It is, howe'er, the bowing, which is most 
Consummate. 

Cn'spus. The bowdng? 

Maximin. That is, so please m}^ master great, the light 
And gentle undulation, thus, upon 
The strings, which causes tone superb. 

(He describes a moving up and doicn of the wrist, and as if 
pressing on the keys with the left hand.) 

Crispy s. Now, that 3^ou call the bowing? 

Maximin. It is, my lord. And, when I was 
In Stechiphon, musicians told me there 
They ne'er had list to my compeer. 

Dalniatius (aside). What a mendacious braggart ! 

Maximin. I did not care to sta}' there long, howe'er, 
The sun, so very hot, was always felt 
When at me-ri-di-an. 

Crispus (affectedly) . What an effect delightful that must give ! 
Impatience makes me writhe with agony. 
Thus being kept from strains like that so long. 
Haste, slave ! step faster ! 

(Crisjvis takes lute, looks at it with a fected amazement, then 
hands it to the rest, ivho are similarly affected.) 
Now haste, m}' friends. How fitting 'tis to have 
The cream of music sweet poured forth b}' our 
Great Homer and Apollo too ! 
Another leaf is here to be put in 
To that fair laurel wreath, — that of the great. 
Divinely gifted Orpheus. 
Stand forth, great Maximin, into our midst. 

(Maximin comes out, full of vanity.) 

Dalmatius Doth mark, jour Highness, now, his long, light 
hair ? 
See how majestically it falls 
Behind ! There is sweet melod}^, I'm sure, 



Scene III.] constantine. 33 

In ev'ry capillary ; and the fair, 

Poetical-like pallor of \ 

His classical countenance. 

CriS2)us. Bring forth that laurel wreath. 

{Servant brings out a mock ivreath ; Crispns puts it on Maxi- i 

niin's head.) 
Great merit thus receives its high reward. j 

Much glory to our sublime, J 

Great Homer-Orpheus, 

Apollo too. Here ! hail to thee, and three ■ 

Times hail ! I 

( The guests rise^ and mockingly how as they pass by him. [ 

They say several times., " Hail!" They place them- ' 

selves in positions of mock adoration. Maximin com- j 

mencesto play, after much affectation of the bowing i 

movement. He makes very inharmonious noises. \ 

Those whom he cannot see., make faces of distress, l 
and put fingers in their ears.) 

Dalmatius (aside) . It is as dissonant as is a cur • 

When barking near our doors. ^ 

Crispus {aside). Or like a comb when played by children. i 

( Whe7i Maximin is done) . Sublime it truly is ! Enough of j 

this. i 

For your kind wishes towards your Prince, I thank ' 
You all. But now, as hour is late, and much 
Loud wassail doth distemper man, I deem 

It meet we close. : 

Maximin. 'Tis true, much wassail doth distemper man : 
For out of all the horrors that do come 

'To us, the misery of dark, ■ 

Succeeding morn is greatest. i 

Crispus. Thou say'st most truly. {Aside). Wisdom for ; 

once. j 

Dalmatius. We are always here but to do your great ; 

And mighty bidding, lord. So now we close, \ 

My champions. Once more, unto our Prince I 

Most noble, his beauteous bride as well. | 

{Aside.) That never shall be. [Exemit. ] 



34 • CONSTANTINE. [ACT III. 

ACT TIL 

SCENE FIRST. 

A Garden near the Palace of Crispus. 

Enter Crispus and Theodosia. 

Theodosia. Oh, may this strain of love which fills our hearts 
Be everlasting now ! Let us awa}' 
From haunts of cold and selfish men, to some 
Secluded spot, where, at bright morn, we can 
There wander through most verdant meads ; 
Cull violets and daisies fair ; 
Wild fruit, for our good nourishment, obtain ; 
Near b}' a placid lake, with sheen upon 
Its surface fair, find watercresses. 
And search for lilies near the bank. 
At noon, within the shade of some cool wood. 
Where cheer}' pines 
Majestic colonnades do form, and oaks 
High tow'ring stand ; where cones 
And acorns lie all scattered round ; 
The sun. 

His ornamental splendors peeping through the trees. 
Beneath the shade 

Of some fair tree, we'll take our meal, which shall 
Consist 

Of Nature's unadulterated store. Eventide 
Shall see us sail upon 

The quiet bosom of the lake, as we do gaze 
So lovingly at windows of 
Our souls. 

Crisjms. Ah me ! That would indeed be bliss ! 
But we have duties to perform. 
My trust is great. My father high must I 
Assist in his great state, 
Large armies lead, and combat hard against 
The foe ; m}' countrjmen 
Improve, and drink rich knowledge from its fount. 



Scene I.] cokstaktine. 35 

Theodosia. Yes, truly, dearest. 

Grispus. Fair one, last night I had a dream. i 

Methought a room of great magnificence i 

I saw, — a chamber, the floor of which j 

Was tessellated bright with gems ; ] 

Frescoed roof, of beauty made ; : 

And walls which stately arabesques displayed. i 

'Twas garnished in a kingly mould. i 

Upon a testered bed, with canopy \ 

Of silk cerulean, and lace of snow, ] 

Which fell in folds majestic from the high \ 

And coronated summit, — upon j 

This couch did lie thy lovely form asleep. \ 

The dress was hiding half thy breasts, as does \ 

The earth the sun when at its setting hides. \ 
Thou wert in arms of Morpheus, and hair 

Dishevelled was, in -graceful folds around j 

Thy alabaster shoulders falling low. ; 

One beaut'ous arm outside \ 

The coverlid lay. The moon her splend'rous radiance j 

Was pouring on thy face, and on her beams, | 

So argent, nymphs and peris danced, — j 

In glorious harmony sang \ 

Thee peace. ! 

Theodosia. Was it not ver}^ beautiful? i 

Crispus, It was. But not without great sadness, dire j 

Foreboding too, do I relate it now. ] 

Theodosia. Why so, my love ? ' ■ 

Crispus. Why dost thou ask? I, thy life and moiety, ■ 
Was not there by thy side. It was as if 

I looked at thee from out another sphere. ; 

Theodosia. 'Tis true, it seemed like that indeed. ! 
And, now I think me too, I also had 

A dream. We were within a boat upon | 

The sea. A storm arose, and we were then : 

Into a fearful vortex blown. ,1 

The boat revolved as does '. 

A weather-cock, and then capsized ; ; 

Into the deep we fell. 1 

The boisterous washes dashed high. I lost i 

My sight of you, and soon became unconscious. i 



36 CONST ANTINE. [ACT III. 

Upon I'ecovering, I found mj^self 

Upon the shore. They told me you had died. 

I felt as does one lost within a cave ; 

My breath almost forsook me ; for thou, 

My guide, my sta}', my life, had gone. 

Whilst I remainecl, most desolate and lone. 

1 fear there is dread meaning in 

These shadows, as both have seen 

The same. 

Crispus. It looks most black indeed. But life is like 
A fragile sprig, o'erblown at any gust ; 
Or hke the finite bubbles of a stream. 
Which are scarce seen before the}^ are no more. 
But, dearest Theodosia, our hearts 
Can never die ; for they immortal fire 
Contain, with which frail matter 
Cannot vie. [Exeunt. 



SCENE SECOND. 

A Street in Rome. 

Enter Dalmatius and Maximin. 

Dahnatius. Now, why do you forever thus pursue 
This hopeless passion, when 
The lovel}' Helena yearns for 3'our 
Endearments ? 

Maximin. Do you think so? 

Dahnatius. Most certainly. {LooTxing off.) 
What could be more favorable ? 
She comes. 

Enter Helena. 

Helena (aside) . That is the wealthy Maximin. 
I much should like to make a conquest there. 

Dalmatius. Good day, sweet Daphne. 

Maximin. How art thou, fair one? 

Helena. Quite well, I thank you both. 
{To Dalmatius, ivhen ii is absurd.) Please pardon me for 

passing in front 
Of you. 



Scene II.] constantine. 37 

Maximin (aside). How very amiable ! Is she, 
I wonder, often thus ? 

Helena (showing her handsome teeth) . I went the other eve to 
A palatial concert. 
The execution of musicians was 
Particularly fine. 

Maximin. Indeed? But I was not seen there. 

Helena. And if you were n't ? 

Maximin. If I had been, you would have known 
What was high music. 

Dalmatius (aside). Yes, such as peacocks make. 
He struts (his arms now kneading air) 
As does a cock. 

Maximin (slyly approacliing Helena and kissing her) . I have 
accomplished it. 

Helena. You man of impudence ! how dare j^ou ? 

Dalmatius. Do pardon his impetuosity. 
My fair one. It is poetic ardor. 

Helena. 'Tis great impertinence, I think. 

(Maximin goes to a, sofa, and extends himself at full length npon 
his stomach.) 

Dalmatius (aside to Helena). Do you behold the alligator? 

Helena. Aye, that he is. (Aside). Yet he is rich. 
And money 's what I want. 
I will dispose of him right soon. 
(Aloud). How beautiful you look. 
Like Jupiter, who doth on Antiope gaze ! 

Dalmatius (aside). More like a porpoise e3'eing mermaid. 
I now must leave this pair of geese ; 
I have more serious work afoot. 
(Aloud). Farewell, my Hero. Bye, bye, 
Leander. Thou 'It be swimming Tiber broad. 
Night after night. Success to you. [Exit. 

Maximin. Sweet creature ! lips of thine are like 
The apple ripe. 

(Aside.) 'Tis better to take her than go without. 
My first fair flower is now be3^ond m}' reach ; 
So I must here content myself with this. 

D 



SS CONSTANTlNE. [AcT III. 

Long deprivation hath made me bold. 

I will not further hesitate. 

(Aloud). Fair Helena, wilt thou be mine? 

Helena. Sweet Paris, j^es. (Aside). For it is well to take 
The prize when it is offered, not 
Coquettislily to dally, and perchance. 
By that means, lose it. 

Maximin. Oh, rapture ! 

Helena. I do consent to your request at once ; 
For I am not coquettish, like those false, 
Deceitful women, anxious then to grant 
Their lovers' wishes when negation firm 
Does fall from their false lips. 

Maximin. Are 3'ou sincere? 

Helena. I am. I do accept you for 
A lifelong lord. 

Maximin. 'Tis well. We'll now retire, and live 
In harmon}^ I'll go and make complete 
Arrangements for our union. \_Exit. 

Helena (Alone). Of weak-brained toy, called love, I have 
Much heard. But I know not of such mere 
Nothings. Howe'er, to wear its semblance fair 
'Tis well enough. It is insinuation. 
And, being constantly before him, that 
Will win him. 

All secret, wily arts, that cunning 
Woman only does possess, will I 
Be sure to use. 

I now do see how opportune m}' own 
Accomplishments have been, — playing fine, 
And singing, drawing too. I had no love 
For things Kke that when j^oung, and their 
Design did not then see at all. But now I do. 
'T is l>ut the training of the bird to catch 
The pre}'. How trembling mute this Maximin is, 
While I do all the talking ! 
But with what secret art I do conceal 
My inward spirit of ridicule ! 
Fair Pleasure is m}" only idol. \_Exit. 



Scene II.] constantine. 39 i 

I 
i 

Enter Two Citizens. j 

First Citizen. Are you going to the Coronation, friend? j 

Second Citizen. I am. | 

First Citizen. Our noble ruler, the great Constantine, i 

Is well deserving of this honor done I 

Him. I 

Second Citizen. 'Tis true, he ma}^ be. But, if this were not \ 
Proud Rome, or if it were, and was without 
The circumspect, dread vultures of our 

Monarch (eavesdropping ^ 

On ev'ry hand, catching all that falls) , one might ] 

Say something. j 

First Citizen. I do not understand this nwstery, i 

My friend. '^ j 

Second Citizen. Hush ! What does " tyrant" mean? ■ 

First Citizen. ' ' Tyrant " ! Why do you apply that vile ) 

And most ignoble epithet to our ; 
So noble Emperor? 

Second Citizen. Because he's taken from us our suffrage. 
We cast no votes, as did our great 

And glorious ancestors under the \ 

Republic. i 

First Citizen. Oh, fie, man! Right of voting gave to them j 
No happiness. 

It is the equitable conduct of a wise, 

Great monarch, like our noble Constantine, ■ 

That makes it well with us, let be his name \ 

Emperor, Consul, or ] 

What you will. ] 

Are not you governed well? ' j 

Second Citizen. I may be governed well ; .; 

But our great agitators say \ 

A man is but a brute without i 

The ballot. \ 

First Citizen. 'Tis brutal of them to say it. i 

Regard them not. j 

If you do wish to witness truth of my \ 

Remark, and backed by actual fact, look j 

At lives of Scipio and Cato 3 

Of old republic. They were \ 



40 CONST ANTlNE. [ACT III. 

Great leaders of their race, formed by powers divine 

In wisdom to rule the earth. 

Yet, notwithstanding, they were forced (account 

Of the absurd and foolish theory 

Extant in that old time) to bow, for an 

Election, to the base and foolish rabble. 

When came defeat (as was 

So oft the case, success then showering 

Upon the heads of scheming men), to this 

Humiliation had they to bow. 

In those old days, opinions of people 

By demagogues were warped. 

By throwing slanders on the great, they 

Were wont to give 

The foolish men their posts ; allowed at the same time 

Their great ones, who had served their country 

In times of peril, in obscurity 

Ignobly to remain. 

Second Citizen. It is much better now. 

First Citizeyi. Indeed it is, m}^ friend. Now, merit 
Receives its due from this our wise 
And justice-meteing sovereign. 
In those old days, there was 
A most sad lack of reverence 
For real greatness. 
Come, we will honor give where it is due. 

Second Citizen. And that we will. I see my error now. 
Come, we will go together. \_Exeunt. 

Enter Dalmatius and Maximin. 

Maximin. Now, do you think this marriage 
Will please our gracious monarch? 

Dalmatitis. Why, certainly. {Aside). The lion hath of the 
Mosquito small no cognizance. 

i^A standard-hearer and soldier .^ with a Crispus medal on 
his breast, and ambassctdors, cross the stage.) 

Maximin {^pointing to banner) . Ah, ah ! they come to 
Coronation. 
That is our Emperor's renowned banner. 



Scene III.] constantine. 41 

Dalmatius. Indeed ! 

Maximin. Those are ambassadors, and that 
The Crispus medal. 

Dalmatius. Ah! {Aside). Great boredom, come again. 

Maximin {to soldier). Is the procession all in file? 

Soldier. It is. 

Dalmatius. He does interrogate forever ; tells 
As well of great exploits. 
It would be well if he did know 
What meaning lies in reticence. 
{Aloud). Let's on to Coronation. \_Exeunt. 

SCENE THIRD. 

A Square in Rome. At back, the Arch of Constantine. 

Enter Constantine in rich apparel., with attendants. After 
boiving deferentially before him, they retire, 

Constantine {alone) . Yes, it must be so ! 
For I have struggled long within myself 
To quell this raging sea, but 'twill not down. 
The safety of my throne commands it. 
When in strong prison-walls he is immured, 
Ambition's shafts will sink into 
The ground. 

It only is a move of caution 
To win life's game. 

And not a hair of his fair head shall come 
To harm, unless bold desperation prompts 
The deed. 

This son of mine would take from me my hard 
And justly earned fame. 
The people show for him too marked 
A favor. 

For his insinuating manner, 
(Or some ingratiating toy) ; whilst great 
Neglect, or forced obeisance. 
Are meted out to me, — 

Yes, I, whose great achievements gave them all 
Their seats. 



42 CONSTANTINE. [AcT III. 

My Empress makes a greater idol far 

Of this her son than of mj'self her lord. 

Fair Theodosia, too, who is betrothed 

To him, there has 

Respect alone. 

Such things shall here no longer be. 

I'll nip this growing evil in its bud. 

And is it thus he dares to snatch 

The honor from mj' ver}^ hands ! 

I hate the people for their foolish choice I 

'Tis also mingled with contempt ; for what 

Is the so stupid multitude, if they 

Prefer this unripe boy to me ? 

And why forever laud him, too, when I'm 

Far richer in desert ? 

Wh}^ need the}' him regard always, while I 

Am here ? I was the favored one until 

He came ; but now my place 's usurped. 

Must I, who have hard battered storm}* wa}^ 

Of life for them, but hold a second place? 

It shall not be. 

(Martial music heard ivithin.) 

They come to celebrate my coronation. 

Alas ! it is 

A mockery, with my own son 

Estranged. 

What are great festals, pageants too, for me, 

At this drear time ? 

Yet I must dress my face in most 

Contented shows, for satisfaction of 

M}' subjects. 

Alas, how great the lie I 

How hard the task light mirth to feign 

When heavy are our hearts ! 

'Tis like a skeleton bedecked with gems. 

Within a shrine. 

He seats himself on the Curule Chair. The procession 
enters. It consists of twelve patrician youths, arrayed in 
scarlet, — six from the most illustrious families, in green 



Scene III.] constantine. 43 j 

rohes^ — with banner^ hearing the motto ^ ^'' By this con- \ 

quer;" a cross on it, and garlands of flowers. A herald. j 

The courtiers wear the Crispus medcd on their breasts. i 

Enter Empress Minervinia ; Crispus a^id Theodosia i 

together; Ambassadors from India, Ethiopia, and Persia ; 

(the latter pay homage to Constantine, and solicit his \ 

favor); Eusebius, Archbishop of Ccesarea; Poet Por- ; 
PHYRius, Questor, Dalmatius and Maximin, Helena, , j 

courtiers, hercdds, etc., etc. They all proceed in front j 

0/ Constantine, bow, and pass on. Ambassadors kneel, 1 

presenting gifts. , 

First Ambassador. Behold, great Constantine, ) 

This tribute of our humiUty \ 

And adoration ; a desire, as well, ! 

For thy continued favor. ! 

Constantine. Thanks, tributaries of the central | 

River. 1 

Here may it ever, hke a peaceful mantle, j 

Cover thee ! .^ 

{Aside). I would tliis mockery were o'er. i 

I long for the offender's punishment. ■ 
This vanity does grate 

Upon my serious soul. j 

(Eusebius places the crown on Constantine's head; the | 

Empress takes a lower seat, near the Emjieror ; the ptoet j 

PoRPHYRius stands forth with a laurel crown on his head, \ 

and reads the poem.) \ 

" Poem. 

" The great Augustus of the West, , 

Of all high Emperors the best, ■ 

To thee be glory high and clear, \ 

Upon this twentieth, last 3'ear. i 

" Thy reign in Gaul was sure most just ; I 

Maxentius was later crushed ; \ 

At Turin and Verona, too, j 
Your triumphs there were ever new. 



44 CONSTANTINE. [ACT III. 

" At last thy conquests touched great Rome, 
Which since hath been thy crowning home. 
The last high lete was very grand, 
But on this level did not stand. 

" Prosperit}^ and health are shown 
As in the Empire thou dost own ; 
While Eastern hordes as slaves are sent, 
Our own blest land is opulent. 

" And Crispus, who did follow too. 
He was in all thy battles through. 
We hope ere long twin stems thou 'It be 
On this our own great Empire's tree." 

Constantine (aside). Most goading nettles to my spirit ! 
Dalmatrus (to Maximin) . Do you observe the change in 
His demeanor? 
Maximin. Aye. 

'^ For many j^ears may you here live, 
And forth thy noble ideas give ; 
Domestic fraud and foreign thrall 
On this great kingdom never fall ! 

" Until th}^ book of life does end, 
And when the given path you wend, 
Ma}' thy life's sail most tranquil be, 

Till closed on Eterne's peaceful sea ! " I 

I 
Constantine. Now, thanks for this the benediction of 
My people. 
(Aside). 'Tis tainting poison to my ear. 

Dalmatius (aside to Maximin) . Do 3'oa observe the bad effect 
These rhj^mes most flattering, 
(Which are by far excelled by yours,) 
Have upon the Emperor? 

Maximin. He does not seem to be right jo3'Ous, 
It is true. 

Dalmatius. It is not strange, when we consider 
In what antipathy he hold his son. 



Scene III.] constantine. 45 

Maximin. Does he, then, hate him so? 

Dalmatius. Yes, my friend, from jealousy. 

Maxim in . From j e aloiisy ? 

Dalmatius. Yes. Mark 3^011 the frowns which furrow 
His brow. 

Constantine. Approach now, those to whom, b}^ our 
Most gracious favor, the station, 
80 honorable, of Consul, is awarded. 

{Several step forward. They kneel, and lie kniglits them.) 

To follow here the humane custom of 
The ancient Brutus, I manumit 
A slave. 

{A slave approaches., kneels., and is freed.) 

{Aside) . These tedious ceremonies, which 
Of old were joys to me, afflict me much. 
{Aloud). Most noble Dalmatius, henceforth 
Praetorian Prefect be, for faithful 
Adherence to our power. 

Dalmatius {aside). At last ! {Aloud). My thanks. 
Most gracious lord, for this 
Thy double bounty. I trust I may 
Deserve the honor. 

{Aside). The office shall not be for people's good. 
But for m}' own. 
There, to enrich m3'self, shall I 
Take ev'ry chance, 
I care not who's defrauded. 

Constantine {aside) . 'Tis well this mockery is o'er. 

{Aloud) . Now let the Herald sound. 

{All look with astonishment. Herald sounds his trumpet. 
The Questor comes down and reads the warrant.) 

Constantine {to Questor) . Now, to thy work ! 
{Aside) . Impatience such as this 
I cannot longer bear. 

Questor {reading) . "Here we, the reigning power of this 
Great Empire, find it forced upon 
Us (although 't is much agaiubt the throbs 



i 



46 CONSTANTINE. [ACT III. 

Of nature and affections 

Of consanguinity) , by the 

Audacious conduct of our son (wtio has 

Exerted here, through vile 

Ambition ]n'orapted, to subA-ert 

The leigning favor for his own) , to do our duty ; 

Yor whicli great crime does justice cry aloud 

For the base culprit's death. 

Yet he who reigns does show more mercy, less 

Howe'er of justice, than did Brutus, 

The patriot of ancient republic. 

Instead of death, so fully merited, 

He shall confined in prison be, until 

The Royal clemency does choose t' exert 

Itself. 

(To Crispufi). To Pola far shalt thou be taken ; 

And in those most 

Impervious dungeons shalt thou lodge. 

Until repentance comes. 

Think, O son ! when in your lonelj^ cell, 

With soft, repentant heart, of this 

Thy sire's clemency." {All much amazed. 

Crlspus {coming down stage) . What do I hear ! 
What is this ! I know not what I am ! 

Constantine. Dissemble not, false one ! Naught of bold 
Pretence will serve 3'ou now. 
Your feigning mask, which does like a 
Chamelion assume the color which 
Occasion fits, my own incisive mind 
Cannot deceive. Away with him ! 

Cri.-pus {kneeling). Here, on my knees, 
I ask an explanation of this most 
Strange afl^air. 

Constantine. To feigned entreaties I am deaf. 
This impudent assertion doth excel 
Your other deep offence. 
The subtle cloud wiiich cleaves the 
Arching vault, when it is touched. 
But chaotic vapor 

Does pro\ e to be, is far more real than is 
This innocent assumption. 
Away with him ! 



Scene III.] constantine. 47 

Empress {advancing). What can this mean, my lord? 
Amazement seizes on my very soul ! 
And what? Our son, our dearest 
And onl}- offspring, thus be gyved ! 
As wife and mother, I command ; yes, 
I, who've suckled, cared for him as well. 
Whose veins are filled with that 
Indignant fire (for Nature in her throbs 
Is similar) with which 
The Indian tigress seizes on 
Her offspring's foe ! 

{Aside). Calm, tempest, calm! 

{Aloud) . I lay aside accustomed womanly 
Submission , and command to know 
The reason of this change. 

Constantine. Oh, peace, my Empress ! your words do pierce 
My very soul. Now would you tear 
The righteous part from out yourself 
By cleaving to this vile. 

Abortive product of our hearts ? 

Think, wife, of this your husband's honor. 

Know you that this proceeding is right 

Well, 

For what you've known of me before. 

Envpress. Nay, with this answer I'm not content. 

Constantine. Now, peace, I say ! 

Crispus. This seems more like an hideous dream 

Than a reality. 

I thought, dear father, I 

Was in your favored thought, as is the heart 

Within the spreading oak. 

Now I am nearly speechless with 

Amazement. 

Empress. Have mercy on him. Behold his weakness, 

And your power. 

Constantine. You know that mercy in my heart is 

Knit, as tightly as a tortoise reptile to 

Its shell doth cleave. 

And now I carry it unto 

Its utmost verge. 



48 CONSTANTINE. [ACT III. 

Theodosia. Let me combine my feeble prayers 
With those of m}^ beloved. 
Ma}^ now 3-our gracious Majesty 
Have mercy on us ! 

Constantine (to Cnspus). Are you to drive me to distraction 
B3' 3'our brazen-faced denial? 
Lead him away, I sa}^ ! 

Crispus. I had no pride but 3'our own honor, 
No public hope but your prosperity ; 
Employment none the more delightful 
Than accomplishment of that dear end. 

Constantine. Keep peace ! No more I 

Theodosia. My lord, I'm sure he never had, since first 
I was b}' his acquaintance blest ; I know 
It to be true. 

Empress. Old Junius his son did sla}' for his 
Great country's need ; command like that 
Awaits not 3'ou. 

Constantine. Be hushed ! No more I 

Empress. Now set him free, 1 sa}' ! 

Constantine. Dare you def}' me? 
This pertinacity compels me to 
Be harsh. I said 'twas treason. 
What would j^ou know besides ? 

Empress. Treason ! And is it thus 3'ou speak of this 
Dear pledge of our most mutual 
Affection ? 

Of him, who has so nobl^^ seconded 
You in colossal undertakings ? 

Constantine Ah, there it is again ; and thrown into 
INI}' very face ! For him to second me- ! 
Yourself and all the rest do wish he first 
Had been. 

Empress. Now fie upon 3'our foolish jealousy I 

Constantine (to officers^ ivlio hesitate about talking Crispus). 
Why hesitate you, slaves, in this your work? 
Are 3'ou rebellious too ? 
Away with him. 
Or else 3'ou will repent it ! 

(They lead Crispus o^'.) 



Scene 1.] Constantine. 49 

Empress. Oh, heavens ! he is gone ! {She swoons.) 

(Theodosia shrieks and rims after Crispus, but is gently 
stopped by one of the officers. She faints and falls. Dal- 
MATius and Maximin look pleased behind.) 

Tableau. 



ACT IV. 

SCENE FIRST. 

A Room in the Palace of Constantine. A Balcony looking 
out. Time, night. Moonlight. Crispus and Theodosia 
discovered in each other's arms. 

Crisp)us. How beautiful the night ! 
How grand and all-embracing ! 
The clouds are towering to the 
Almight3''s visage, like eagles to 
Their eyries. 

It is sublime and peaceful, 
Unhke the turmoil which agitates 
Our own unhappy breasts. 
Here, for a respite brief, we twine ourselves 
In other's arms, and think with sorrowful 
Regret of former lot. 

Theodosia. Ah, yes, my heart's companion, agony 
Does shower itself upon us. 

Crispus. Is this the terminus of our 
Amor'ous journe}', in the black 
Seclusion of a dungeon deep ! 

Theodosia. Alas, how transient are our joys below ! 
Darkness doth succeed the light, as night 
The day. 

Crispus. Our prospect was as fair as e'er 
Met mortal's gaze. 'T was that 



50 CONSTANTINE. [AcT IV. 

Which verdant Summer shows when she 

Her loveliest paints, 

Abundant in her mellow fruit : 

Cerulean skies extend above, 

And verdant shades below. 

{Pointing to moonlight.) Or now, as when we 

In her face do look, 

The moon through lattice casement steals, 

Bright Venus, with her radiant face. 

Attendant and companion to 

Her there ; 

Effulgent sheen on hght clouds stealing, 

And gentle breezes surging through the trees. 

I think, beloved of my soul. 

Our gracious father (for I must call 

Him such) is but the prey of a 

Most envious harpy, as a child 

Of Satan desires to sow the seeds 

Of misery among us. 

Theodosia {looking of). There stand our jailors grim ! 
For what is thine is mine, in grief or joy. 
Would I could reverse the scene, — be Perseus to m}^ 
Andromeda ! 

Thou see'st, dearest, our visions were 
Prophetic. 

Crisjyns. 'Tis true, we 're bound by iron band 
Of Fate. 

Theodosia. Do our fond hopes receive 
Thus cruel damper ! I possess thee in 

My heart, but Fate doth place me from j 

Your presence. , 

How different our state from what it was I 

On yester night ! The heavenlj^ 
Effulgence from on high was 

To us a boon. j 

It now is but an aggravation of . ' 

Our misery. 

Crispus. My love, if I can break the bonds of this 
Unrighteous slavery, I will. And, if 
Communication be 
A possibility, pray fl}^ 
To some retreat afar, where we can meet. 



Scene 1.] constantine. 51 i 

Theodosia. I fear such hopes are but frail hairs \ 

To cling to now. : 

Crispus. Do not despair, beloved of my heart : ■ 

The powers of Heaven do sj'mpathize ; 

With victims of oppression. \ 

Some way by which we can escape will be ] 

To us made known. - i 

We must be patient. Ills patiently endured ', 
Half vanquished are. 

Theodosia. 'Tis so indeed. ! 

Crisjms. Farewell, sweet Bird of Paradise ! If Fate ] 

Denies reunion here, it will be sure i 

To grant it with redoubled joy to us | 

On high {pointing upward). ; 

Theodosia. With dire foreboding is my soul now filled, i 

But Heaven's will be done. \ 

Farewell, sweet one. ; 

May love so light those prison walls that, e'en i 

Without my presence there, the gloomy place = 

Will be transformed into a bower of love ! \ 

Our souls will still commune. ! 

If earthly forms do not. "; 

Crispus. Thy speech doth fill my aching heart \ 

With comfort. i 

Farewell, again farewell. i 

My jailors are here about m}^ side. j 

{They embrace. The ^jailors enter, and bind CmsFVS and j 

remove him. They are gazing at each other as Crispus is I 

led off. Exit Theodosia, iveejmig, opposite side.) j 

Enter Constantine and Dalmatius. They are engaged in } 

conversation . ] 

Constayitine. Was there anything besides ? \ 

Dalmatius. Nothing, my lord. Only — only — '] 

Constantine. What means the repetition of that word? ■ 

Dcdmatius. Sire, I hesitate to make known what , 

I have seen and heard, lest yow will \ 

Deem me meddlesome. \ 

Constantine. Speak! What mean 3^ou ? 3 

Dalmatius. I was at the fete in honor of your 

Son's approaching nuptials. \ 



52 CONSTANTINE. [AcT IV. 



Enter Attendant in great haste. 

Attendant. My lord ! 

Constantine. What brings you in this haste, fellow? 

Attendant. Great sire, 3'our son, our Prince, has fled. 

Constantine. Fled ! ) / . 7^ 7 x 

r^ J .' ^?^ J } r {simutaneo7isly.) 

Daimatuis. Fled! j ^ ^ ^ 

Attendant. He has, so please your Majesty. 
When to his prison journeying, 
B}^ lax guard and his 
Herculean strength, he fled. 

Dalmatius. Or, what I more suspect, my lord, 
His flight was favored by traitors to 
Your service. 

Constantine. I am of your opinion. 
Has that defiance of my royal will 
Been thrown before me thus? 

Dalmatius. Indeed it has, great sire. 

Constantine {to Dalmatius) . This incident shall not 
Interrupt our theme. 

{Aside) . He ma}^ now haste to bring repentance ; 
Or punishment then may have been severe. 

{To Dalmatius). Proceed. Was it a merry meeting? 

Dalmatius. Oh, yes, m}^ lord. It joyously was passed. 
Expected bliss most cordially 
Was drunk. 
His valor in the field 
A flattering comment did receive. 4 

Constantine {aside) . Indeed! 

Dalmatius {aside). He 's moved. The blow is not 
Without eflfect. 

Constantine. Remained you late ? 

Dalmatius. Not so, your Majesty. 
His Ro3'al Highness, your good, chaste son, 
Betimes did bid us seek our homes. 
Before the wine should have o'ercome 
Our reasons. 

Constantine. A youth most virtuous. 

Dalmatius. The revellers caroused unto 
His kingly prospect. 



Scene I.] const antine. 53 i 

! 

Constant ine. To what ! Am I yet dead ! And has the j 

Trunk 3^et crumbled on which the diadem ] 

Rests I Or am I now with age I 

So paralj^zed that m^^ own arm no ■ 

Power retains to hold the sceptre ! j 

Dalmatius. What malady so strange does move ' 

Your Highness? ! 

What liave I said that you should be thus i 

Roused bej^ond your wont? \ 

(Aside) . The physic takes ettect. i 

(Jonstantine. Oh, nothing. (Aside). I must be calm, or this i 

M}^ tempest's rage will thus betray me. j 

(Aloud) . What other compliments were < 

Fulsomely bestowed upon my son ? ; 

Dalmatius. Then of his daring deeds of field they spake ; i 
His majest}^ and glory 

In warhke action. They said, ■ 

' ' Fond state will then be ours : 
When he will be our own liege lord." 

Co nstantiae (aside). Hell and furies ! Emperor again I '■ 

Foul treason in m}" very house 1 find ! ; 

{Aloud). Then what replied the Prince to that? j 

Dalmatius. He thanked them kindly for their wish. j 

Coiistaiitine (aside). He, then, upholds them I j 

Accepts it in m}^ very face ! i 

death I can this be so ? j 

1 must this treason nip within its bud. ; 
Outgeneralled by him ! Oh, no ! If it i 
^y other means cannot be stopped, he shall | 
Be slain. ^ 

Dalmatius (overhearing him). Slain, my lord ! ) 

Of whom do 3^ou thus speak ? j 

Constantine. Of what concern is that to you? i 

Dalmatius. Oh, naught, my lord. Yet must I then 1 

Acknowledge thus to see your son so much j 

Exalted, you besides ! 

So httle eulogized, did not atfect 

Me little. \ 

I cried, " Here's health to 3'our so high and 

Well-earned state !" It was, howe'er, ; 

With deadly coldness given. \ 

E I 



54 CONSTANTINE. [ACT IV. 

Constantine. Ye gods ! That son of mine was as the rest? 

Dalmatius. He was, so please your Highness. 

Constantine. 1 here do cast liim off. He is #. 

No longer son of mine. I'll not 
His presence brook here near my throne. 
And thou, Dalmatius, 
Do I adopt as son. 

Dalmatius (aside). You most propitious stars ! So soon? 

Constantine. Yes, ^-ou I set where late he stood. 
My confidant, my second self, thou art. 

Dalmatius. My lord, be not too rash. Investigate 
The matter further. Perhaps 
The goodness of the cheer, the burning of 
The wine, did tempt them all to utter 
Things of which calm contemplation would repent. 

Constantine. No, no. I'll not believe it. Wine is but 
A key which does unlock what in 
The mind is stored. 
The}' spake most honestl}^, I warrant. 
Now thou shalt fill his place. 

Dalmatius. M}' lord, you do me too much honor. 

Constantine. But on one condition 
Will I grant it. 

Dalmatius. Good sire? 

Gonstantine. See that, in place of bridal-bed, there be 
A funereal pile. 

Dalniatius. Your speech is inexplicable, my lord. 
I do not understand 3 ou. 

Gonstantine. Surmise you not, from what 
You've seen and heard? 
I mean my son. 

Dalmatius. What! a murder? Do consider good. 
My lord. 

Constantine. Not so. I am as firm as Jove's great throne 
Above. He must die ! 
Do the deed, or worm-hke still crawl on 
Within your menial office. 

Dalmatius. W^ell, be it done, my lord, as you command 
It to be so. Your throne's assurance is 
Not firm without it. By what means 
Shall the deed be perpetrated ? 



Scene I.] constantine. 55 

(Jonstdntliie. I care not by what means, as long 's the 
End 's obtained. See it be done right quickly. 
{Asi(f(') . Ere the dark, imperious hand upon 
The dial's face hath turned where now 
It points ; and ere the sun 
Diurnal voyage far hath sailed upon 
The sea of light ; or sulphurous 
And subterranean rivers 
A lengthened course have run within 
The embryonic centre of the earth ; 
When vaporous Night enshrouds the world. 
And owls and bats. 

The s3'mbols dire of mischievous Night, 
Are wickedlj' awake, — the deed 
Must then be done. For his base life. 
Like hissing serpent. 
Is coiling round my very heart. 
There is no peace while he draws breath. 
(AJoud). Be sure that my injunctions 
Are obeyed. 

D((/mafius. My dupe, I have you now I 
M}^ plans work well. I do ascend into 
The height to which I aimed, as does 
The winged vulture to its nest. 
The Emperor alarmed to desperation ! 
I see my scheming journey's end appear 
Far sooner still 
Than my anticipations e'er had dreamed. [£Jav7. 

Etifpr Constantine and Minervinia, com.ing from opposite 
directions, and meeting. 

Minervinia. My lord, I do rebound to thee 
The joyous news which you do know 
Already. 

Our dear, beloved son is at his home 
Once more. 

Constantine (aside). His stay will be but short. 

Minervinia. I see in this, my lord, the good and soft 
Relenting heart of old. 

Constantine {aside) . Relenting I Ah, did she but know all 1 



56 CONST ANTINE. ' [ACT IV. 

Minervinia. It was but done to gloss 
Thy public justice o'er, 
To teach thy people all 
The elder Brutus lived again in j^ou. 
I was short-sighted when I 
Deemed you sincere. 

Constant ine. Yes, wife, I could not carry rigor to 
Its just extreme. 

(Aside) . I thus must feign approval, 
To hide the dark intent which 
Lingers in m}^ heart. 

Minervinia. Now come, dear Constantine, embrace 
Me as of old, 
On this reunion of ourselves and son. 

Constcmtine (aside) . Oh, torture ! torture ! 

\_They embrace. Empress exits. 
Thus must I be now, like the 
Secret thief 

Who hides himself within whate'er 
He has to do. 

Fai-ewell, my Empress ! Had I but now 
Thy feeling lor thy son, I would 
All worldly gloiy shun. \_Exit. 

Enter Dalmatius, looking off in ojjposite direction. 

Dahnatius. Ah, see where comes m}- duped 
Accomplice ! 

Enter Maximin. 

Dalmatius. How now, good friend? 
Success on this occasion I do wager. 

Maximin. But, if the stakes were large, you would 
Be beggared. 

Ah ! do you think I now refer 
To Helena, the Maid-of-Honor? 
Oh, no. I have abandoned her. 
She's naught but a coquette. 
Who nothing wants but all my money. 
With beauteous Theodosia, I did 
As 3^ou desired. 

For aught that I can tell, she slept 
As soundly as before. 



Scene 1.] constantine. 57 



And as for moving planets from 
Their spheres, all things moved 
Calmly on. 

Dalmatius. Ah, well ! 

Maximin. Although I am so great, no one 
Appreciates it. It were better to 
Return to ia\j prosaic life of old, 
As soldier. There is more prosperity. 
When I was at Collegium, 

My parents told me I ; 

Would make a Cicero. 

In Plutrarch, of him, Demosthenes ' 

As well, I read. ■ 

In imitation of the Grecian orator, • 

I went unto the seacoast, and there 

To the great waves declaimed. j 

But I was at the class's tail ; j 

And, since it hath not yet appeared, { 

I surely have been misinformed, \ 

Or unappreciated. j 

Dalmatius. Of course 3'ou 've been I 

Quite unappreciated. 4 

I have another and a surer method j 

To gain the prize for which you seek. \ 

Maximin. Now what is that, I pray ? \ 

Dalmatius. It is but simple, often used as well, ' 

And most successfully : 
Kill her lover. 

Maximin. What ! I kill him ! I commit \ 

A murder ! ; 

I greatly fear to do it, I 

Although I'm soldier great and warlike ^ 

In the field ; but yet a murder 1 

Vile, that all the laws of Gods and 
Men condemn, I dread 
To do. Besides, I fear 
Our monarch's vengeance. 
Although imprisonment was caused 
By him, when touched by the 

Assassin's hand, i 

He would most terribly mete punishment i 

Upon my head. \ 



58 CONSTANTINE. [ACT IV. 

DalmatiuH. Oh, fear it not. I have so seasoned well 
His ear with caluran}', that he has e'en 
Now called for execution of the deed. 

Maxiinin. I shall be most assured of that 
Ere I attempt the deed. 
As well for soul as body's sake ; 
For, with that, all would not be well 
If I had not his high command to bear 
It up. 

Dalmafiufi. Well, ease jour mind with sophistry 
Now, if 3'ou will. Pooh! What's 
The killing of a man ? 
'Tis but the trimming of a tree, — 
The cutting-ofF of limbs which but 
Retard its growth. 
It is because of damned custom, 
And canting laws, to make poltroons 
Of men, 

So ihat base tyrants can hold 
Them easily in cheek. 
You would not quake to slay a fowl : 
Wh}^ should you be the more a 
Murderer to slay this man than 
Herdsmen are, who take the lives 
Of innocent, kind animals? 
Their death the state of man improves ; 
So his will A'ours. 
And for disco veiy, there is 
No possibility of that, 
For here all friends are thought to be. 
What 's more, we will im arcerate 
Our weapons in dumb ground. 
Come, friend. It is but as we look 
At things whether they are bad or not. 
Use reason. Subvert base custom. 
And live alone b}' judgment of 
Your own. 

Maximin. But I do fear. 

Dalmatius. Why, fear is foolish, man ; 
For, if 3^ou 're injured, jou suffer 
From that wound and fear besides ; 



Scene I.] constantine. 59 

If not, the latter m^ystic suffering you have. 

When free of all such cowardly 

Impediments, you only feel , 

Realities, relieved of other burden. i 

Maxim in. Now you, who are a great philosopher, : 
May be thus quieted ; but ni}^ 

Poetic temperament is far ] 
More sensitive. 

Dalmatius {aside). It is a cowardl}' blanket, 
To hide poltroonery beneath. 

(Aloud). Now, will you follow my advice? : 

Maximln. I wdll ! I see it now, for you to me i 

Have made it clear as day. : 

Dalmatius. We'll to't at once. \ 

He yet cannot have reached his ; 
Theodosia's house. I'll stop 

His passage there. • 
Go meet me thereabout at once. [Exit Maximin. 

The Prince once gone, the Emperor | 

Right soon will follow. ; 

I, the nearest to the throne, ; 

Then gloriou-^ly will succeed, ; 

And have the lovely Theodosia .; 

For my Empress. \ 

I must with devilish circumspection ; 

Close ] 

What I so foully have begun. \_Exit. j 



SCENE SECOND. 

The suburbs of Rome. Landscape in the distance, with hills 
covered with woods, etc. At left of stage, Theodosia's house. 
A storm. Thunder and lightning. 

Enter Dalmatius. 

Dalmatius. This dreadful night is proper time 
For scene which I have now to act. 
'T is such as grandams tell of before 
The fire. The glimm'ring lightning 
Dims our eyes, 



60 



CONSTANTINE. [ACT IV. 



And nauseates us now with too much light ; 

The cannonading thunder 's pouring its 

Tremendous A^olleys all along 

The heavens. 

The rain does fall in torrents, as if 

The Powers fearful fools call good 

Were w^eeping at great destruction 

Those of Hell were executing. 

Tornadoes now do carry their 

Destructive vapors through the sky. 

And sweep all things before ; rooting trees 

From off their bases ; blowing cabins o'er, 

Destroying crops, and marring all 

The}' meet. 

Great earthquakes swallow villages 

And cities, men, ships, and mountains. 

Or whatso'er they chance to find. 

When hungr}^ jaws of Hell do ope. 

Demanding pre}'. 

The heavens are cold and wild ; 

Long streaks of clouds beneath. 

And fiery red above. 

'Tis hard for moon and stars through 

Such opacity to peer. 

This night must not pass o'er 

Befoi'e the work is consummated ; 

For I fear the Emperor will soon relent. 

His fond, soft heart, on meditation. 

Will countermand the order. 

Within the howling, moaning of 

The wind, methinks I hear the groans 

Of my forthcoming victim. 

He is to pass this lonely road upon 

His journey home. 

That home he ne'er will reach. 

{A flash of Ughtnimj is se('n.) 

A bolt so near ! I am here betimes. 

My fooled accomplice will ere long 

Arrive. 

I promised him to aid in his attack. 

And strike a blow myself. 



Scene II.] constantine. 61 

But I will not (to be more safe) 

Be of the scene, 

But will secrete me by. 

M}' tool, liowe'er, shall ne'er escape 

The perpetration of the deed. (Betire.s back.) 

Enter Maximin, 

Maximin. This awful night afflicts me to the soul. 
1 fear, by coming here, that he, for whom 
I do design my blade, will make me 
Sure with his. 

And, if my friend had not assured me well 
That I was made right valiant, 
1 should myself believe 
A coward. 

But great ones are unconscious. 
Dalmatius is not here ! It is now past 
The hour on which we had agreed. 
Ha ! there my victim comes ! 
He can't escape m}' sword. {Retires up stage.) 

Enter Crispus. 

Crispus. It is a black night truly. 
The rain comes falling down. 
Now giving life and vigor to the 
Sterile earth, 
As it has gasped with thirst so long. 

(Maxiiiiin co)nes from behind, stabs Crispus in the back, 
and then retires.) 

Crispus {totteriiuj). Ah I what coward 's this. 
Who takes advantage of the night, 
Comes forth and slays me ! 
My tread, which was as firm 
As is the Indian elephant's, 
Now totters like a wounded fowl I 
I thought all friends were found within 
Our state. 



62 CONSTANTINE. [ACT. IV. 

My father dear, with this my dying breath ♦ 

I do forgive the wrong done unto me, 

Which 1 beheve was not of thy 

Clear reason made. 

My thread of life is breaking off ; 

Old Mother Earth demands the 

Pa^'ment of her debt ; 

M}^ brain reels round ; 

This clod of clay, this mould of earth. 

Does sink into its grave ! 

But mine eternal soul will tower 

Above all sense and change ; 

It shall to heaven ascend, and 1 within 

The Temple of the Gods shall live. 

O'er a bright, full sea of gilded clouds, 

An arching rainbow, with 

Its coruscated coat, doth there appear ; 

Bright seraphs fair 

Are wending winged way around ; 

Above, the mighty Jupiter upon 

His throne doth sit ; 

And all is peace and blessedness. 

I leave this chrysalis for winged flights 

Above. 

I die. Dear Theodosia, of comfort be. 

(Looli'ng toicards her house.) 

And sta}' not long behind . 

Come to m}^ arms, m}^ dearest Theodosia, 

Come I 

The low'ring tempest sings a requiem 

Of rest. (Dies.) 

Enter Theodosia. fro ik her hon^e^ frith a lighted lamp in her 

hand. 
Theodosia. What noise was that I heard above 
The tempest? 
It was a human wail. 

{Seeiiu/ Crispns dead upon th(' (/roiind.) 
Ha I what is this ! Some one dead ! 
{Looking at his face with larnp, she gices a shriek of horror.) 



Scene II.] constantine. 63 

Can this most direful scene be real, 

Or is it but imaginative painting 

Of a fiend? 

Alas, it is too real I 

Dead, dead, and gone forever I 

What do I here ? AVhat is this life to me ? 

A desert dreary now, without my lord. 

No longer I'll remain in this 

Most loathsome realm of murder, 

Hate, and death. {Drawing a dayyer.) 

1 have a dagger here. 

By its true point of steel. 

My peace shall find. 

Ah, 3^es ! by leaving world of misery, 

I shall with him upon 

A soaring eagle sail into the sea 

Of light. There we will fl}' 

To realms of day eterne. 

Instead of hid'ous shapes, the , 

Forms of beauty only there will reign : i 

No prisons there, or punishments refined ; | 

No tyrants, murderers, or haters of ; 

Their kind : > 

There in eternal day to live, and each 

New hour to show us more , 

Of sacred Deity. j 

Beloved father, of | 

Thy rigor towards th}' son, to him ) 

In whom was all my bliss, — 

For thy unjust suspicions, j 

I pardon thee with this my ^ 

Dying breath. Farewell I 

{She .^tabs herself.) I thus do ease my aching soul. ; 

Dear Crispus, now I fl}' to thee ! ' 

{She falh embradny hodif of Crispus, (uid dies.) 

(Maximin eyiters, and, as he is proceed iny across the stage, ; 

Dalmatius comes behind, and stabs him. Dalmatius ; 

then sees Theodosia, with a took of astonishment.) | 

Tableau. ^ ' 



64 CONSTANTINE. [ACT. V. 

ACT V. 

SCENE FIRST. 

An ApartniHut in thf Palace •(>/" Co nMantine . 

Enter Minervinia, Helena, and aUendants. 

Minervinia. How fares our own forthcoming bride? 
Now she should be most cheerful ; for 
Her prospects are so fair. And she 
Should thoughtful be as well. 
It is old age of her virginity. 
The birth of married hfe, with all its care 
So womanl}', and dignity, begins. 
Fantastic, sentimental mantle must 
Be thrown off, and deck her in 
The matron's robe of common sense. 
I do remember well the time that 3'our 
Great master took me from \tl\ father's house, 
To be a soldier's wife. 
M}' prospects were not half so grand 
And ro3'al as our Theodosia's ; 
But full of hope and sunn}' jo}' they were. 
For I did have a noble treasure in 
My lord. 

{She summons a servant.) 

Inform my son, your Prince, that I should 

Like to see him. 

(Aside) . He now may need maternal. 

Good advice. Although he is most 

Noble and right valiant. 

He humbly takes from me 

What is well meant. 

Elder Messenger. 

Messenger. My ro3'al lady, there is bad news. 
Minervinia. What do you say? Bad news? 
In danger ? — of what ? of whom ? 



Scene 1.] constantine. 65 

1 

The Emperor? The foe approaching? j 

Fire or pestilence within the citj^'s walls ? i 

Or has rebellion raised its serpent head ; 

To sting us? You wag 3'our head. ^ \ 

Ah, what ! is it ^-et still more near? ' : 

Of Theodosia? — our son? i 

Ah, yes ! from this, 3^our staid and fixed j 

Expression, 1 do see 'tis he ! [ 
What of him ? Thrown from his horse 

And wounded? Scarred, perhaps, by - ; 

Sword, while practising? j 

Messenger. Your most dear son, our noble Prince, i 

Is dead. 1 

Minerviiiia. Dead ! '\ 

{She swoons. All present cry ^ '^ Dead! '') \ 

Helena. My lady ! 

Messenger. Help ho I The Empress is swooning ! ■ 

Enter Const antine. \ 

Constantine. What means this crj' ? My Empress \ 

Insensible? Why are you dumb ? ^ \ 

Speak I for I would know its meaning. j 

{The Empress rouses.) ] 

Helena. Our lad}^ does recover. j 

Messenger. M3' sire, our royal mistress bade me go 
And summon thence the Prince into 
Her royal presence ; 
And, as I crossed the cloistered walk 

Communicating with the palace of j 

Your son, I there beheld four men, : 
All bearing him, the object of my search, 

A bloody, mangled corse. I 

They told me also (ill fate is mine ] 
To tell this doubly direful tale !) 
Beloved Theodosia, 

Our future Princess, was murdered by , 

His side. \ 

Constantme (aside) . She too ! Of that I did not think. i 



66 CONSTANTINK. [ACT V. 

Messenger. We found his gorget cut behind ; 
His casque at his brave feet was 13'ing, 
The snow-white pUime all bathed in gore ; 
Great rivers bloody poured their rougey 
Stream along his greaves ; 
His trusty falchion in its scabbard slept. 
His baldric still and undisturbed, — 
Which showed that no 
Resistance had been made. 
And thus he was by poltroon hand 
Laid low. 

Full well 1 know, if there had been 
A multitude, if warned betimes, 
The}' had not all escaped 
With their foul lives. 

Coiistanfine {aside). So soon I It does surprise me quite 
As much at first as if I were a stranger 
To the deed. 1 must put on detested, vile 
Hypocrisy, the fact so foul 
To shield from off my Empress. 
How one vile deed unto another leads 1 
The Devil's garner 's full ; and when we knock 
For aught, he shows us something more. 
(Aloud). She wakes. 

Empress. My lord ! Where am I now? Do I but 
Dream, or wake? 

But what I saw and heard so foul, was of 
My fanc3''s make. For sureh' 
Just Heaven, that has so much, could not 
Be envious of this our peace, to tear 
From out our hearts that which made 
Life so fair. 

Constautine (aside). What torment is this now to me, 
To see m}^ partner suffer thus, 
Which, were I blameless, would plunge 
Me in a pitiful gloom ! 
But, as I am accessor}- to that 
Which causes this most deep affliction, 
I'm drowned in hell. 

Minervinia. And, too, at such a time, when all 
Seemed consummating, 



Scene II.] tonstantine. 67 

With fete prepared, the time appointed, 
And guests all summoned ! 

Constantine {to aftendanfs). Inform her not of this. 
The double woe. 

Which treads upon us now, in loss of our 
Good and almost daughter : 
There 's time enough for that. 

Minercudu. Where hopeful white, now shrouds and 
Weeping black appear. 

Constaritiiie {<isif]p). There is at times much joy at 
Funerals, 

And sorrow great at weddings, and at 
Births grave maledictions. 
{Aloud). But where was this? 
How was it brought about? Here, near 
Our very palace gates, where we had all 
Esteemed our friends? 

Messenger. Great sire, of the sad circumstances know 
I not. But, seeing this dread sight, 
1 pressed me to inform you. 

CoiistavtUie. This shall be ascertained. 
The murderer cannot escape : 
All places shall be searched. 
When captured, this, our heaviest hand 
Of justice, on accused shall fall. 

{Einjyress leans on Constantine.) 

Minervinia. Come, lead me to my bed, I feel 
So ver}^ I'aint. 

My boy, thy mother comes to thee. 
The plucking of the scion caused so deep 
A wound, that tree must wither. [_Exeunt slowly. 



SCENE SECOND. 

A Public Square outside the Palace. 

Enter Constantine. 

Constantine. The deed is done ; the blow is struck 
My son is dead ; and I, 



68 CONSTANTINE. [AOT Y 

A miird'rous criminal ! 

Satan, how have you decoj'ed me I 
Within my soul, where all was peace. 
Now burning hell eats up my yery life. 

1 would that Hon jaws 

Of darksome chaos would all 
Things swallow, than keep me thus 
In fiery torments ! 

(PfaniK/ his hand on Ins head.) 

Oh that there were 

Remedial channel on this roof, to clear 

Me of mj' cloudy smoke, 

Or source to carrj- from my soul 

The blackness it contains I 

I pictures see most dire. 

And shapes of horrid form portrayed, — 

Deep maelstroms, sending forth 

Great sheets of burning flame. 

Where venomous serpents hiss and sting. 

Where 1 saw only forms of beaut}', love, 

And heart, now beings all of sohd ice 

I do behold. 

I look upon a land in which the sun 

Has never deigned to smile, — 

A world of ice. 

Where was a warm and radiant blood, 

B}' heavenly beauty glowingh' inspired. 

Most cold, congealed snow is found : 

And where on high the grand 

Illumination, diml}' do now 

Behold revolving, filmy disks. 

I gazed, and thought 

Of glorious transportation thither ; 

But now, instead of lodging, I 

Should, skate-like, slide from one to other, 

Sure going on eterne, 

A harbor never finding. 

My soul in sulphur St3^x 

Doth seethe. 



v: 



Scene II.] const antine. 69 ] 

< 

Blest confidence did in me reign : ; 

Now I do fear that each grim footfall ■ 

Hath in its sound the noise ': 

Of my betra3'aL 

If such a thing shall hap, I shall 

Be pointed at as the most bloody \ 

Monarch, who, to obtain a foolish selfdom, \ 

Struck off his own right arm. j 

If sov'reign Reason had 'nt been dethroned, 

Grim Torment's sway had then been held 

In hellish shades below. j 

How could my Prince's elevation j 

Have injured me ? ] 

And, as of bone and flesh of mine he was 

Composed, at his j 

Great triumph exultation should have rung ; ] 

And on a double throne, " 

The sceptre wielding with me jointl}'. ' 

Thus, where T thought new life obtained, 

I find myself more deepl}'^ stained. j 

'Tis well m}' Empress is no more ; j 

For, were she here, she would but spurn me : 

But human spurning, when the conscience 

With its fever burns, is then of naught avail. ^ 



Enter a Cottncillor irifh train of foUoivers^ one of them 

irith food. 

Councillor (afte?- watcJdng Constantine pace up and down). 
My lord, why take 3'our son's death so 
To heart? 

Such accidents are not of rare 
Occurrence here below. 

Come, gracious master, resume your former life. 
Now taste once more of food. {Offers him food ) 

Constantine. Ah, no ; no nourishment I'll take : 
Of even life's necessities, myself 
I will deprive, till this foul spot 
Be blotted out. 

Councillor (aside). What do I hear? 

Constantine. My peaceful nightly rest is gone ! 

F 



70 CONST ANTINE. [ACT V. 

Were once the black, foul stain removed, 

I 'd feel as a 3^oung mother does 

At first delivery. 

I am as is the victim of 

An hopeless passion. 

Desiring that which never '11 he. 

Councillor {aside). I do suspect what now I fear to name. 
Constantine. Ah ! was his death here caused by me ! 
Councillor (aside) . My ears did then reveal the horrid truth ! 
Constantine. Ah he whose birth, and my 
Beloved Minervinia's pains, 
I then hung o'er with anxious hope ! 
Am I myself. 

Or hath Pythagorean transmigration been 
Accomplished ere 
The mortal vesture hath 
To unsubstantial elements conformed ! 
This savage isolation now is terrible. 
I have great earthly conquests made ; 
But my own inward war has been 
But little watched. 

" He that his spirit conquereth is greater 
Far than he that taketh city," saith 
The poet David. 
'Tis so indeed. What now 
Are all mj^ triumphs, — 
Successful monument (without 
A stone displaced) which I have reared? 
A barren nothing ! 

{To Councillor). 'Tis true, repentance chasteneth. 
M}^ son, were he but in this life again, — 
How would I now for his forgiveness 
Plead ! 

Councillor. Astonishment compels me to be dumb, 
My lord. 

Constantine. I'd give up all my Empire to recall 
The deed. 

Could he but now return lo earth, 
There 's not a wish I would not gratify, — 
Make him the monarch of it all. 
And Pd assume the beggar's rags, and be 
A lazar at his feet. 



Scene II.] const antine. 71 

How oft have I lamented this 
My hasty temper ! 
Offence then being venial, I could 
Unto the injured make amends ; 
But now that 's past all hope. 
I was as one in health, who prize 
It not, when I did have my son 
In happiness. 

Councillor (aside). M}" murderous suspicion 
Must be secreted. 
{Aloud) . Are you quite well, my lord ? 

Constaiitine (aside). ^' Are 3'on quite well?" How much 
Within that question lies ! 
The difference 'tween well and ill is great ; 
In body even, far more in mind. 
This spiritual disease is terrible. 
Now I no longer see his heavenl}- face : 
Its shadow to my mental vision doth appear, 
By day and in mj' dreams. 
A burning conflagration doth consume 
My very soul, although there 's sweet 
Forgiveness in his face. 
He 's torn from me like an 
Uncallowed bird from place beneath 
The fond maternal wing. 
I thought to have thee close my 
Death-struck eyes. 
But here must I now die alone : all 
M}' dear ones have departed ; 
There 's none to whisper kindly words into 
My ear. 

As a deciduous leaf, I fall 
At Winter's blast approach. 
(To Councillor) . Great Justice, to soothe 
This howling tempest in my breast, 
Doth here compel me to the world 
Remorse and penitence to publish. 

(Statue of Cris2ius, in gold., disclosed at back.) 

Behold the golden statue I erect 
Unto the memory of this ni}^ son, 
Whom I unjustly did condemn ! 



72 CONSTANTINE. [ACT V. 

{In agony). Awake, my bo3% awake 
From 111}' so silent slumber ! 

Councilor (aside). This is the agony of great remorse. 

Constantine. This murder foul was done so quickly, too ; 
Before my rage had cooled, the fatal 
News arrived I 
Dalmatius, why wert thou in 
This fatal deed so swift? 
Your prompt allegiance 

Was fatal to me. (CovndUor overhears this.) 

Still, at his feast, they toasted him alone, 
There sayino^ naught of me. 
Howe'er, the fitness of the f^te 
May have brought that out, 
Which in his honor was, not mine. 

Councillor. M}^ lord, was this sad murder done 
At your command ? 

Constantine. Villain, keep pence ! 

Cowidllor. You have, m}' lord, 
Most foully been betraj^ed. 

Constantine. How sa}' you? 

Councillor. I was at fete in honor given of 
Your son ; and not a word was spoken 
There disparagingly of yourself, or wrongly 
In praise of him. 

Constantine. There did you not carouse unto the wish 
That he would be your lord-in-chief? 

Councillor. No, no, my lord. 

Constantine. Nor did 3'ou toast m}^ health regrettingly ? 

Councillor. Not so, my lord ; we toasted you 
Right heartih^ 

Constantine. Say you so? Thus have I been misled ! 
Ah, now I read the leaf aright : 
Dalmatius, to gain a higher place. 
M}' son most foully did abuse ! 
I thought philosophy so high did soar 
Above all earthh' prize. 
Oh, how by this degraded hypocrite 
Have I been wronjjed ! 



Scene II.] constantine. 73 ^ 

Eyiter Dalmatius. i 

j 

Dalmatius. Sire, I hope that you will find ' 

Me faithful to your service. . 

Constantine. You viper ! who urged me to ' 

My ruin ! I'll not suffer 3'ou j 

To live, j 

For 3'ou have made me frantic ! j 

Thus do I reward 3'our pains I {Stabs Dalmatius.) 1 

Dalmatius. Of all my villan}' is this the end? \ 

I'll then defiantly go down to hell ! j 

C<mstantin(\ Yes, yes, to hell you'll surely go ; for 'tis ! 
Your native element. 

Such souls as vours from out the Devil come : 
Great God would shame to make 

The like of 3'ou . ' 
You are the venomous serpent which 

Has stung us all. ^ 
Misfortunes all now can be traced 
To you. 

{Attendants carry off the body 0/ Dalmatius.) 

Councillor. Great Emperor, live as before, 
In happiness. \_Exit. \ 

Constantine. Why should I linger here on earth? 
All hope in Life is gone ! , 

What is this darksome maelstrom Death? 

It is naught but our life. : 

When in the body's cave confined, ' 

Our highest thoughts are in all space ; I 

Then surely they do sometimes break 
Their bars when here. 
Can death be more than our experience 
From day to day? It is not : 
Now stand we amidst Eternitj-'s 
Limitless ocean ! i 

That safe forgiveness 's found alone in this ' 

Our world, I not believe ; j 

Or that the grave is the most final cliff j 

From whence Salvation flies ; 



74 CONST ANTINE. [ACT V. 

That when our eyes are closed in death, 

Irrevocable fiat is 

On us pronounced : 

The soul 's as capable of sure 

Repentance then as now, and perhaps more ; 

Account of ihe ab3'ss which yawns 

'Tween this world and the next. 

No longer will I linger here 

In grim remorse, 

But seek relief in death. (Stabs himself.) 

Thus do I expiate the wrongs 

My foolish jealousy has caused ! {He falls and dies.) 



THE END. 



M. 



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